


Forgotten Beginnings; Forgetting Where to Lead

by LunaDiamond (orphan_account)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Chapter Warnings displayed at the beginning of every drabble, Excessive Swearing, F/M, Gen, M/M, More like a series of oneshots rather than drabbles tbh, SMUT AT CHAPTERS 1 AND 10, Sub Shinichi/Conan, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5106638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LunaDiamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of 1k+ word drabbles revolving around our favourite size-confused detective.<br/>Along with his, ehem - harem - ehem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kaito/Shinichi - “No, Kaito we are not doing it in the janitor’s closet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god it's only drabble one and I wrote smut.  
> In a janitors closet.  
> SHHHH //winks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi glares, while walking with a limp and breathing in a whiff of his mildewy clothes.  
> Kaito, for one, couldn't possible care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we get started on my would-be shitty drabble series, I'm going to put some disclaimers and caution signs up here.
> 
> DISCLAIMER(S): Detective Conan/Case Closed and Magic Kaito do not belong to me, but are created and owned by Aoyama Gosho.
> 
> General fic warnings;  
> All drabbles are/contain..
> 
> -Unbeta'd and not sketched out beforehand (Translation: I flow with wherever the drabble is telling me to flow)  
> -Edited minorly  
> -At least some M/M, if this makes you uncomfortable, please don't proceed.
> 
> And that's all, have a nice trip! -whispers- Souvenirs will be appreciated.

Drabble 1.  
Kaito/Shinichi - “No, Kaito we are not doing it in the janitor’s closet.”  
Chapter warnings: Heavy smut.

\---

 

_“Shin-chan~!”_

  
Shinichi twitched and stiffened, then increased his walking pace significantly to avoid a certain hyperactive birds-nest head rapidly advancing.

  
“Aw, mean.. You ignore me because I said hi?” Kaito was suddenly walking alongside Shinichi to his right nonchalantly and pouting considerably. Shinichi veered to his left.

  
“Kaito, I have my law lecture to attend, can this wait until I come back?” Shinichi sighed and righted his grip on his grey manila folder as to emphasis his point, “We’re in university now, we need to be more responsible.”

  
“But that’s no fun,” The brunette sighed, “My classes are already over for the day.”

  
“I still have mine,” The other deadpanned, “Go flip someone else’s shit, the break is almost over, and I’m almost at the lecture hall-”

  
Before he could speak anymore, Shinichi found himself being shoved roughly into the closet next to the hall, hands shoved roughly in front of his mouth, disabling him of any sudden squeaks or protests.

After a moment or two of heavy footsteps and the occasional “Damn that Kuroba, I swear I’ll make him suffocate in his own grave-” emitted from who Shinichi recognised as Hakuba Saguru, one of the people with the unfortunate honor of being Kaito’s classmate of many classes.

 

“Mmph!” Shinichi let out a small protest not on purpose when Kaito’s slender fingers ‘accidentally’ brush over the front of his jeans.  
It was unfortunate for them that Saguru heard a distinct noise from the janitor’s cleaning closet just meters from him. Kaito squirmed uncomfortably and held a desperately self-conscious Shinichi tighter to his chest. Lord, he could even sense Saguru’s suspicious aura closing in on them from all directi- er, from in front of them.

  
Shinichi hoped and prayed silently in his head like a mantra stuck on repeat if his shitass luck would just spare them this once.

  
He looked around a put up a rough picture of their position in his head; Shinichi’s hair tickling the taller’s chin, one of Kaito’s wiry arms securing Shinichi’s thinner, weaker ones behind his back and Kaito’s crotch occasionally brushing with the detective’s backside.  
Shinichi didn’t know whether crying in despair or delivering a good, strong kick to the other’s crotch and fleeing would be more appropriate this time.

  
He decided to remain silent, but stick with option C; either deliver a soccer ball to Saguru’s nether regions if the poor blonde bastard and his curiosity decide to speak up about this plight or silently castrate him when he isn’t looking, although it’ll be about the same, but the castrating would be less painful if done by Shiho.

  
Looking to the pros, he could reduce human overpopulation as there’ll be at least one baby less in the world.

 

Time seemed to still for a few seconds as he could even see his would-be traumatized friend’s shadow in front of the closet. Cold sweat began pouring, both his and Kaito’s.

  
“Ah, Hakuba-kun!”

  
The shadow stopped.

  
“Oh, Aoko-kun, good afternoon, are you heading to the library too?”

  
“Yep, Akako-chan’s already there,” Aoko’s chirpy voice stopped for a second, and the two still remaining in the wretched cleaning space didn’t dare breathe, thank the lord for Aoko, “What are you doing?”

  
“Oh, nothing, I’m sorry, I can accompany you there, if you don't mind.”

  
The detective could feel the former thief sniff in distaste behind him. He was beginning to get very uncomfortable in this position, emphasis on the ‘very’, and wriggled a bit in favour for a better personal bubble right now.

  
He stopped when he felt Kaito’s hard length poking through the latter’s pants.

  
Nevertheless, his face instantly felt very hot, and he wanted to bury it in his hands.

  
Kaito must’ve felt it too, because he leaned in and started to breathe into the smaller male below him.

  
“Oi, oi, we’re not out of the woods yet. Let’s wait in here a bit longer,” His voice was husky, and it sent small, racing tingles down Shinichi’s neck, sending his breath hitching. He could only nod absentmindedly.

 

They don’t know how long they stood there for, in the mildewy space, but Shinichi drifted deeper into Kaito’s fragrance, spicy and tingling to his senses; intoxicating.

  
Finally, Kaito stirred behind him.

  
“So, while we’re here, let’s have a bit of fun, yeah?” His grin was shit-eating, but had hidden undertones of hunger and predatory tinges.

  
“Huh-”

 

When he blinked, he was on his stomach, leaning against the long mirror stashed in the closet, pants already being dragged down and Kaito bent over him like a lion cornering his prey.

  
“Hey, Kaito, wait-” Shinichi tried to screech, but was interrupted by two of the magician’s fingers making their way into his asshole and sliding in way too quickly.

  
Damn, Shinichi wanted to slap Kaito for his impulsiveness, but his hands were currently, uh, incapable and tied behind his back (Shinichi figured a long time ago it was pointless to ask).

  
“Dammit, KID, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinichi snarled, although he could admit that came out a little more harshly than he would have liked it to be.

  
Kaito’s gaze turned from red-hot mischief to a deep, dark scowl.

  
“That’s not me anymore, remember? He died years ago, right, Conan-chan?” He whispered, nicking at the gasping brunette’s neck, and straining the pronounciation on the old nickname.

  
And in a large, swift motion, Kaito was buried inside Shinichi, long, hard and quivering with anticipation.

  
“Hng!” Shinichi gasped, instantly panting for breath, Kaito started directly with a fast, rough pace, and tilted the former’s chin to that misty sapphire eyes were looking into the mirror they were leaning on. There was enough light seeping through the cracks and small ventilation slots for Shinichi to fully comprehend himself taking in the hard cock ravaging his insides, and spared enough movement to let himself bite onto his azure jacket, trying to diminish the weak and mewling moans coming from his throat.

  
“Dammit, you don’t know how much I missed you, with your stupid cases and lecture shit, it’s driving me crazy,” Kaito hissed, with his slender fingers tracing around Shinichi’s stomach in randomised patterns.

  
  _My_ _knees would give out soon_ , he thought hazily, since they were feeling like jelly now. Shinichi’s back arched and twitched from a beastly ram into his prostate, a weak scream spilling from him throat.

  
Kaito stopped with a jolt, stiffening. There were voices shuffling around outside, in the lounge. Shinichi panted for breath, his insides still occasionally spasming and tightening around Kaito’s cock buried deep inside his ass, and turned his head shakily in question.

Low murmurs filed in from outside.

  
“Damn, are there still students around?” The messy-haired gritted, “Shit, just don’t try to make any noise, Shin-chan.”

  
“Ah, hah..” Shinichi moaned as Kaito began to move inside him again, though more slowly and less of a pounding in him like minutes ago.

  
It was then that he’d snuck a glance at the mirror in front of him. His face was flushed heavily, with Kaito’s hands lifting him up and thrusting with some more force now, seemingly wanted him to adjust to the speed. He had a strand of saliva dripping down him chin, and his lips were parted slightly.

  
He was on his toes, Kaito thrusting and taking dominance over him completely, rocking into him, while Shinichi gripped the sides of the mirror for dear life.

  
The only sounds in the cabinet were Kaito’s harsh pants for air, and Shinichi’s moans and gasps increased with Kaito’s pace.

  
It was then that Kaito decided to flip Shinichi with his back against the mirror, ramming and pounding in, then pulling out until the tip remained, then pushed all of Shinichi’s buttons and sent his toes curling and arms gripping more tightly onto the mirror behind him. He wasn’t even touching the ground now, with his feet lifted onto the magicians bent arms. Shinichi felt like he was slowly going crazy, twitching and fully aware that his pants were now crumpled into a heap on the floor.

  
“You’re mine, Shinichi, mine, mine,” Kaito whispered against his ear before crashing against the other’s soft lips, all the while still sinking into Shinichi who writhed with white-hot pleasure and, with the helping force of gravity, arched his back to land himself balls-deep.

  
They didn’t even realise their own climax, with an explosiveness of pleasure until Kaito hissed and released his liquids into Shinichi, who could just managed a weak and shuddery moan, before both of them slid downwards and collapsed on the floor.

  
The heat was stifling, with the added smell of sex, and the tangle of limbs in the tight space.

  
Kaito sat back onto a rack of disinfectants and stared at Shinichi, whose half-lidded eyes were cloudy and blinking unsteadily.

Wandering down his rumpled clothes, to his trembling legs and a delicate pink entrance with thick strands of white leaking out, and body racked heavily with huffs and pants.

  
“You.. you fucking sadist,” He still managed to grit out, before closing his eyes completely.

  
“You were enjoying it,” Kaito pointed out.

  
“Oh my god is that the janitor I hear?” Shinichi gasped.

  
Kaito’s head whipped around at an ungodly speed, landing him with an unholy crick in the neck and the death of a large number of brain cells.

  
“I’m joking,” Was the amused detective’s only reply.

  
Kaito leant his head back in relief, before scrambling around for the long-lost pants only to freeze at that one question he didn’t want to hear.

 

“So, Kaito, how do we get ourselves out of the shithole without anyone noticing since all the classes are pretty much finished now and everyone's free to wander around.”


	2. Heiji/Shinichi – “Oh hey another dead body woohoo.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heiji absolutely swears that they were serial killers in their past lives.

Drabble 2.  
Heiji/Shinichi – “Oh hey another dead body woohoo.”  
Chapter warnings: Mild death.

 ---

 

_Shinichi always found Osaka fascinating, even if he doesn’t necessarily admit it._

  
Heiji too, like he’s the personification of the place, bright and carefree, in contrary to the busy, sometimes suffocating atmosphere of Tokyo and Shinichi, tense and busy.

  
Heiji, the guy who forced himself into Shinichi’s life and filled the space as his ‘best friend’ and became a necessity in his life, giving Shinichi a valuable output for all his dusty secrets and little worries.

  
“So my pop went up to ta guy and flipped him over the railin’, where he fell into the trap and – hey, ya listening, Kudou?”

  
Shinichi snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to the tanned boy smiling awkwardly, “Oh, uh, hi.”

  
“Snap outta it, you’ve been daydreaming a lot these days,” Heiji teased, flicking Shinichi’s forehead.

  
“Ow!”

 

A scream they were all too familiar with.

 

“He fell from the building!”  
“Help, the guy’s dead!”  
“Someone call the police! Eek!”

 

The two thundered to the source of the screams and panic and skidded to a halt.

An old man, slightly wrinkled and face locked in horror, was left to rot on the pavement, with a deep gash on his head.

Heiji grumbled something about missing the next train to Tokyo with no small amount of irritation as he pulled out his phone and punched in Otaki’s number with his eyes closed, while Shinichi instinctively raced over to the corpse and began shooing off bystanders.

  
It wasn’t even a feat anymore.

 

-.-.-

 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s right in front of ta bullet train station, on the west side, no, oh, okay, thanks, Otaki-han.” Heiji hung up the cell phone.

  
“I take it we’ll start first."

  
“Yep,” Heiji’s eyes shined, and Shinichi turned his head away, face flushing, “We’re workin’ together on a case again, how great is that?”

  
_“Joy.”_

 

-.-.-

 

“The victim this time is Hisayo Mamayo, 61 years old, clockmaker. Cause of death; strangulation with a thin wire, maybe a fishing one, and died aroun’ 1pm. The suspects are all gathered over there fer questioning with some of the other officers. Any leads so far, you lot?” Otaki lifted his head to stare at the two walking around, sometimes ducking down to pick something up with a handkerchief, and other times looking at towards the roof where the victim dropped from.

 

Silence enshrouded them for a few seconds, only interrupted by forensics officers muttering in the background, yet a multitude of thoughts and theories could almost be _seen_ in the air, with how dense it was.

 

The Osakan of the two stood up and faced the officer.  
“Oi, Otaki-han, can we take a look on ta roof up there?”

 

-.-.-

 

“Which is why, Hanami-san..” Shinichi looked to the corpse grievingly.

  
“Yer the only one who coulda done it!” Heiji had an absolutely serious scowl etched onto his face.

  
“If the officers check your hoodie string, there should be a thin, fishing wire wrapped around it. Check it into the forensics for luminol tests, and it’ll have the solid evidence to close this homicide case here.”

 

The audience from the sidelines murmured in astonishment and surprise, perhaps some agreement too.

 

"..I-I didn't mean to.."

 

-.-.-  
  


 

“Geez, we just had to run inta one of those again, huh?” Heiji grumbled, leaning his head into his arms behind his back, “We missed two trains in the time we spent.”

  
Shinichi made a noise of agreement from the back of his throat, staring down at his feet as they made their way down the platform to find an available seat to sit in for the time being.

 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before the train came to a halt before them. Shinichi had caught the little subtle glances Heiji sent his way before he righted himself. It was kind of cute actually, not that he’d ever admit it or his dignity may as well be non-existent.

 

The train was crowded, to say the least, with the holidays looming close, people had the urge to just grab their offspring and scram out and away from their daily lives. The chatter was almost deafening to Shinichi’s sensitive ears, although it didn’t seem like Heiji minded it in the least. Shinichi could distinctly hear the other humming out a small section of a popular song, with no doubt that he’d learnt from Kazuha.

  
Realizing that he’s be soon noticed is he kept staring at the way Heiji’s lips moved, and how his green eyes sparkled with the light from the interior of the transport, Shinichi hurriedly shoved his head to admire the fluently passing scenery.

 

Hours passed, and Shinichi could feel a migraine forming in his head. The clamour was too loud for him, and standing up for what felt like eternity on end was enough to make him dizzy, along with the weak immune system he developed from his time as Conan.  
He had to recite the entirety of Sign of Four into the duration of the trip, and would proceed onto little trivia about blood types, poisons (most notably APTX4869) and the locations of various convenience stores he encountered during his Osaka visit.

 

Suddenly his already tired vision began to swirl, and he collapsed and slid down one of the transparent doors.

  
“Oi, Kudou! Ya alright there?”

  
“Shit, did I get a cold again,” Shinichi hissed, before realizing how close their faces were to each other and felt a blush creep up.

  
“Oh, again? Ya really haven’t – mmph!”

 

 _Oh wow his lips are so smooth,_ was the first thought that traitorously entered his mind and Heiji collapsed on top of him, mashing their tongues together and tasting his teeth. He tasted like spicy cinnamon, with autumn undertones and bold mint. God bless whichever bastard bumped into him.

 

In the WC, someone screamed.

 

-.-.-

  
Ran glanced back and forth between the two teens, both sporting a very visible blush. Her eyes glinted knowingly, and she gave a small, but mischievous smirk, and turned to lead the currently awkwardly squeamish boys to the station exit.

 

Haibara's eyes just _screamed_  'Don't mind me I'm just scheming right now'.

  
Shinichi’s eyes landed on the tea-blonde girl next to her, shooting Haibara his best ‘I am a death god with 729 ways to skewer a bastard in front of the police without them knowing so you may as well drop dead now’.

  
But as much as Shinichi hated to admit it, his powers were wasted on that witch.

  
“I see all, Kudou-kun, I see all,” She cackled.

  
“If you actually do, you may as well back down now considering your death will be slow and painful and your soul will be incinerated personally by me.”

  
“My, my, what a special way for me to kick the bucket. I would expect simply being stabbed or hanged with the way people die around you.”

  
“I have corpse-attracting powers and I’m not afraid to use them.”

 

Agasa stood to the side, a good ten meters away from the murderous intent emitted to his right.

 

“Ehem, you two. Shinichi, Haibara-chan’s only six, and you’re traumatizing her,” Ran cocked her head back, and the pair immediately straightened, faced with her ‘you’re gonna taste my fist’ look.

 

Heiji looked cautiously towards the bulky professor.  
“Uh, how long should I stay away from neechan for?”

  
“Until you’re back in Osaka, Hattori-kun. Ran-kun can punt a hole in your face if you ask for it.

She doesn’t need a weapon. She is a weapon.”

  
Heiji smiled nervously.  
“H-haha..”

 

-.-.-

 

“So, uh, Kudou, what do ya say about dinner at Columbo tonight, since Neechan’s going over ta her blonde friend’s place, just the two of us?” Heiji slung a possessive arm over Shinichi’s back, earning a squeak in return.

  
“Uh..”

  
“We can try ta Tokyo udon here!” The tanned teen waved his arms around for emphesis, all the while holding the shit-eating grin and a slight blush.

  
Shinichi could only make a noise of agreement, face flushing red and turned downwards.

  
“Alright then, do ya know any great udon shops without potential chances of a guy dyin?”

  
“You.. you make it sound like I murder the people-”

 

“Call the police! She’s fucking dead!” A man dresses in a fancy business suit stumbled backwards and screamed pointing shakily upwards.

  
_And our misfortune rears its ugly head yet again_ , Shinichi sighs internally as he looks directly upwards very, _very_ slowly.

 

A woman in her sleepwear was hanging from her neck from an apartment window high above, with her face ghostly white, locked in terror, and swaying gently in the breeze.

 

“Well, at least she isn’t falling just yet.”

 

The rope audibly snaps and the body tumbles _down_.

 

_“Forget what I said.”_

 

-.-.-

 

Successfully dodging the fallen corpse, Shinichi grimaced and whipped out his cell phone, calling Inspector Megure on speed dial.

 

Heiji leant over to give a quick peck on the paler boy’s cheek as soon as he ended the call before giving his all-time cocky grin. Shinichi wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment, blushing a deep red.

 

“While ya at it, ya might want to call the local exorcist as well, so no one will fall over on our dinner date.”


	3. Kogoro/Conan – “Waiiit, so where did you get that hugeass soccer ball from again?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kogoro reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughh the giant soccer ball on the lake scene was honestly one of my favourite scenes in Movie 19.  
> Movie 19 in general, actually, because it's just CANON KAISHIN OVERLOAD UGHH

Drabble 3.  
Kogoro/Conan – “Waiiit, so where did you get that hugeass soccer ball from again?”  
Chapter warnings: Spoilers for Movie 19; The Hellfire Sunflowers.

\---

 

Sometimes, when he isn’t acting scandalously or drinking in unholy amounts, Kogoro was just a normal human being with feelings and a heart.

  
There are even times where he sits nonchalantly behind his desk when Ran’s at school, oh and the brat too, and huffs silently, knowing his reputation and fame (He doesn’t know where it came from or if he deserved it) can’t help him save something dear, of course he’ll always cross the bridge when he comes to it.

 

He has his very own mask too which he pulls on every so often.

 

He can’t remember when this all even started, but given time and opportunities, sometimes lies can gradually become the truth.

 

And when the door creaked open, with a chirpy “I’m home!”, the older man sighs and picks up another beer, and pretends, once again, to not give a shit.

  
But even so, Conan has always fascinated him, ever since the day when he was dumped on the doorstep without prior notice, like some little puppy carelessly given away.

 

Kogoro’s aware of the ‘brat’s’ façade, but he sees no point in implying anything, so he just rolls along with it, after all, he notices the too-mature mind buried deep in the suffocating sapphire eyes. Notices the way he glances around wildly at certain moments, cold sweat forming, afraid of an unknown presence.

 

This little kid, who runs around a crime scene like it’s his very own little playground, Kogoro muses, isn’t even deterred by the rotting stench of death, and, better yet, it lingers especially around him, like a death god’s aura.  
It’s strange, but comforting to see that he’s not the only one with a mask.

 

Then that day, when only the wet Sunflower painting floated up on the lonely lake surface and not Conan, it hits him like a thunderbolt.

  
The brat’s become such a huge part of his life that without him, it almost feels like he’s lost a family member.

 

For a few, deathly silent moments, no one moves, no one dares breathe, until a few small bubbles rise up to the surface, and Kogoro’s eyes widen. Ran’s breath next to him hitches.

  
An eerily familiar black and white starts rising from the surface, slowly yet promising.

  
And with that, up came the funny little cowlick.

  
Ran lept forward, “C-Conan-kun..!”

 

The brat had the nerve to turn around to wave awkwardly, unscathed.

 

Damn, if that didn’t knock the last straw over by a mile and a half, Kogoro didn’t know what else did.

  
Which is why he full-one dove into the lake, not giving a shit about his clothes, paddled over to the child, and lifted him up with joy and relief seeping into his aged face. The brat was safe, and Kogoro was going to keep a decent eye on him from now, come meteorite or _burning sunflowers_.

 

-.-.-

 

They sat on the rental van on the bumpy road.

  
No one said anything (Not even Sonoko), or more like they were exhausted.

  
The car occasionally bumped into potholes, but otherwise, only the engine stirred.  
Kogoro glanced sparingly into the driver mirror and smiled.

  
Conan was curled up into his jacket and snoring lightly. The glasses slipped halfway off his face.

  
He was a tiny enigma, sitting right there, with layers and layers of secret, and lies, far more than anyone can imagine.  
That was Yuusaku’s son for you.

 

But, there was also something Kogoro couldn’t make heads or tails of, as he chews on his burning cigarette.

 

_Where do all these cursed soccer balls appear from?_


	4. Shinichi/Conan – “They say, with great power comes with great electricity bill, and in your case, nothing can be more true.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi curses the power companies. And their bills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs some Shinichi/Conan selfcest in their lives 8D

Drabble 4.

Shinichi/Conan – “They say, with great power comes with great electricity bill, and in your case, nothing can be more true.”  
Chapter warnings: Selfcest, underage.

\---

 

_“Shinichi, what did I say about forgetting to turn off the lights before running off to the police station?”_

  
“Sorry, sorry, Conan, Megure-keibu gathered together some hard evidence, but couldn’t track down the main suspect, forgive me?”

 

A snort, “No can do. Last month’s electricity bill exploded through the roof. You got to cut down this month and fix that habit of yours. Just because you ran off on your hugeass case last year doesn’t mean I cut you slack. You didn’t even call that often.”

 

“Sorry again,” Shinichi exasperatedly huffed, but inwardly chuckled at the 13 year old boy standing in front of him’s ‘You’re 23 for the sake of all that is holy’ glare.

  
“I thought you were supposed to be my caretaker, Shinichi. But look, even I do all the cooking,” The boy had long dropped the honorifics ever since they were familiar and started to live together.

  
Conan slid off his blue school bag, and set down his textbooks, but a reddish-brown cover immediately caught the older detective’s eyes.

  
“Hey, Conan, did you kidnap the english Sign of Four to read at school again?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

  
The middle-school aged boy in question blushed, “What? We were just going over revision today for a quiz, ah, shit,” He glanced at his dart-watch, eyes wide, “Mitsuhiko said he’s be here in a few minutes to return my notes,” and scampered up the stairs to his room, leaving the slam of a door in his wake.

 

“Language, Conan!” Shinichi hollered after him.

 

-.-.-

 

“Conan, what do we have for dinner today, I’m, er, hungry?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a whimper.

  
“I was waiting for you to ask,” The bespectacled boy sighed and picked up his bookmark, “We’re out of groceries, since, you, Kudou Shinichi, forgot to buy the groceries on Tuesday,” Conan positively seethed.

 

Shinichi almost yelped.

 

Conan stood up, “I’ll call Ran-neechan to see if we can get some dinner at the ramen place or something like that.”

 

Without further warning, the lights around the pair flickered, and went out with a small buzz.

 

Shinichi could even sense his lover’s aura of ‘Shit’s hitting the fan if anyone dares breathe in my presence’ in the pitch blackness and silence.

 

-.-.-

 

“Ah, what happened to you two?”

  
“Eh?”

  
“Shinichi, you look like you just took a trip to hell and back,” Ran jogged over to her best friend and looked him up and down, “Your face is white and you’re shaking.”

  
“Depends on the fact of whether or not hell comes in the shape of a doppelganger ten years younger than you,” He laughed awkwardly, sparing small glances towards Conan, who was grumbling and slightly pouty in return.  
Shinichi turned towards his best friend and sighed.

  
“Shinichi! You shouldn’t insult Conan-kun!” Ran huffed, placing her hands on her hips. Shinichi internally snorted. Conan was cute when he wanted to be, but when he decided that the world needed ending, it was like hell freezing over.

 

But Ran didn’t need to know that, after all, she didn’t even know how far in their relationship already was.

 

“Let’s get inside the damn store already, it’s freezing right now.” Conan blew into him hands beside them.

 

-.-.-

 

“Shinichi?”

  
“Yeah, Conan?” Shinichi reared his head slightly. He could no longer feel the suffocating wrath around Conan on their current way home. That was a start, at least.

  
“I’m sorry.”  
It was such a quiet prase that Shinichi strained to hear it.

  
“For what?” Shinichi frowned. Conan was never quick at apologising.

  
He received a sigh as a response.  
“It’s been a crappy day for me. One of my teachers was strangled, and he was really nice too. Honestly, Death revolves around us all the time, Shinichi.”

  
“Oh, that’s.. unfortunate. I’m sorry too.”

  
“Huh? Why’re you-“

  
Conan was cut off mid-sentence with a quick kiss on the forehead and a signature Detective of the East grin.

  
“Oh, Conan-chan, in case you haven’t noticed, we walked past our mansion and this is the professer’s house,” Shinichi must be a total bastard to enjoy the blank, yet confused face Conan had at that moment, but he didn’t give a crap or two.

 

Then, a few minutes later Conan positively _blanched_. He pointed furiously behind Shinichi towards one of the windows from the lounge room.

A warm, slightly flickering light seeped through the windows, and poured into the darkness.

 

_Shinichi twitched._

 

“U-uh, I forgot to flip the switch before we went out?”

 

“Y-you!” Conan was heaving heavily now, like a wild beast resisting the urge to kill.

  
“Ah shit, I’ll take this as a sign to run.”

And that was the last thing Shinichi remembered stuttering before his neck felt a prickling sensation and he slumped to the ground with an unsteady and highly intelligent “Huh?”

 

Conan loomed over him like a ghost.

 

“When we get home, I am handcuffing you to the bed and you can stay there for the day. _In the dark_.”


	5. Saguru/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi - "I’m never looking at the media the same away again."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru decides that there should be a law against the level of sexual harassment that KID inflicts on them.  
> Heiji agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually turned out longer than I thought it would be.  
> Or maybe my ideas are just too simplistic in my head.

Drabble 5.  
Saguru/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi - "I’m never looking at the media the same away again."  
Chapter warnings: Incredibly dense Shinichi //winks. Also some KaiShin if you squint.  
\---

Saguru grimaced as he stood in front of the large headquarters of Tokyo 7 Broadcasting. He snapped open his pocketwatch, staring at the remaining half an hour left. The blonde let out a sigh he didn't realise he was holding, and strode into the building's grand (and very costly, he noted absently) entrance.

 

He first noticed a very distinctive cowlick among the almost empty receptionist area. Saguru lit up almost immediately, since the Eastern detective was always good company, and admittedly good looking too, with the long aurburn lashes and sharp, yet full cheekbones with the nose that's just raised a little higher than-

  
Saguru absentmindedly pinched himself on the thigh (a habit he had developed during his years knowing the sapphire-eyed male), hissing in return.

  
He didn't realise that he'd been standing there for whole minutes before the detective at the other side of the room stood up and waved a bit, cracking a small, delicate smile.

  
_Saguru felt his own heart crack._

  
"Ah, Hakuba-kun, how are you?"

  
"I-I'm fine, Kudou-kun, I assume you're here for the interview too?"

  
"Oh, yeah, Hattori should be here in a bit and we'll go in then," Shinichi gestured his hands slightly and sat reluctantly down on his plastic, grey (but somehow still manages to look costly) chair, "Wow, and this, sir, is how elderlys all around the world receive stiff tailbones on a daily basis, I swear."

  
Saguru slipped out a small smile of his own. The younger detective's snarky comments laced with amusement were always endearing to him, before sitting down himself and the realization of the other detective's snark settled in.

  
"I agree."

  
-.-.-

  
"I’ll kill that bastard Hattori," Shinichi mumbled under his breath, seemingly ready to flip his shit.

  
Saguru hummed disdainfully in response. _The tan idiot must've caught the wrong train_ , he mused to himself.

  
"Hakuba-kun, just wait here for a second, Hattori says he's right outside," Shinichi reassures him, looking up from his phone, which beeped seconds ago, signalling a message, finally giving up on the waiting game. He's standing up and pacing towards the sliding doors before Saguru even turns his head.

  
He leans back into his chair and sighs, crossing his arms and legs, enjoying the peace and tranquillity while it was still there.

  
Shinichi sneezed in the entranceway.

  
Not a moment later a woman shrieked in hysterics, "He's dead! Oh my fucking god!"

  
Hakuba brought his hands to his face and resisted the urge to sob.

  
-.-.-

  
"Yo, Hakuba!"

  
Saguru could feel the special vein he always reserved for Hattori's irkyness pop up on his temples.

  
"You're late," Was always the inevitable reply.

  
Hattori leant forward, making the 'speak louder' gesture with a huff.

  
"Eh, speak up, I can't hear ya, since I don't understand assholenese."

  
"Oh, says the dear sir which uses a dialect instead of a language," Saguru rose from his seat rather crookedly.

  
"Hattori, Hakuba-kun, sit down."

  
The duo in question froze and turned to see a very disgruntled Shinichi crossing his arms and glaring blue lasers at the two.  
Nevertheless, they swallowed audibly and sat down. Shinichi didn't look like he was in the mood for any shit whatsoever.

  
"Hattori, no one has time for your crap right now, and Hakuba-san, I never would have thought you, of all people would be so gung-ho about something like this,” Shinichi pinched the bridge of his nose, “Since we’re all here, we might as well tell the receptionist that we don’t need to postphone the interview for, say, next week.”

  
“Oi, oi, ya make it sound like I’m responsible for all the delays!” Heiji waved his hands around for emphesis which, sadly, went ignored judging from the pointed looks from his two companions.

  
One of the forensics lab officers waved to Heiji from outside of the building, as if to severely contradict his point. Heiji let out a huff.

 

“Case in point.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Come in, come in, you lot,” A woman in around her 40’s opened the door for the three teens, gesturing them into the room and towards a set of sofas.

  
“Take a seat, boys, don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll just ask a few questions and you can go your own ways,” She waved her hand dismissively, silver bangles jangling.

  
“Uh, alright,” Saguru glanced around slightly.

  
“Let’s get going then boys, I know you don’t have all the time in the world. I certainly don’t,” She chuckled a bit, “I’d prefer it if you answered honestly, so how do you describe your careers as a detective?”

 

Shinichi responded first, “Since you asked for honesty, I’d say painful, in the metaphorical and non-metaphorical ways. Me and Hattori are pretty much bullet-prone, although him more than me.”

  
Heiji snorted, “Hakuba, you still have ways to go, you haven’t even gotten shot yet to join the club.”

  
Saguru scowled, “Excuse me?”

 

The lady cleared her throat, then tapped her clipboard and looked upwards.  
Something about her eyes made Saguru shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he dismissed it with a mental wave of a hand.  
“So, boys, which areas of crime do you prefer to exceed in?” Her eyes glinted.

  
“For me an’ Kudou, death is sorta recruited as our unofficial stalker, so that’s pretty straightforward, although the guy here also likes goin’ after some flamboyant thief to waste time when he has nothing to do,” Heiji slung an arm over Shinichi shoulders, much to Saguru’s displeasure.

  
“My speciality is thieves, of course, more specifically, Kaitou KID.”

  
The lady made a noise of acceptance, and for a few moments, only a sound of the scrape of a pencil could be heard in the room.  
“What inspired you lot to take up this dangerous profession?”

  
“Partially my father, Kudou Yuusaku, who was originally a private investigator, and also because of my idol, Holmes.”

  
“My pop’s a police officer, so it’s natural for me ta get interested in his work.”

  
“My situation’s quite similar to Hattori-kun’s, though with the addition of Holmes as well, a shared idol of mine and Kudou-kun's.”

 

Silence washed over the room for a few comfortable minutes.

 

“So, Kudou-kun, I heard some little gossip that Mouri-san, your childhood friend has some feelings for you. What are your opinions for this matter or are you even remotely aware of the fact?” She looked up.

 

_“…She what?”_

 

Saguru suddenly found his blood running cold, and glanced over to see the tanned Osakan twitch, before clearing his voice.  
“Oi, K-Kudou, yeah, how do you feel about nee-chan?”

  
“Ran? Er, we’ve been friends for a long time, but she’s pretty much my unofficial sister,” Shinichi blinked owlishly, “What do you mean ‘like’?”

 

Oh boy if that wasn’t just the densest thing Saguru has heard he doesn’t even know anymore.  
“Oi, oi..” Heiji laughed, somewhere between astonishment and exasperation. Wait a second, was that relief Saguru hears?

 

“Alright then, Kudou-kun, what are your opinions on the other two you’re taking this interview with, since they’re working in the same line of profession as you, but maybe in slightly different sections.” The interviewer smiled, pearly whites sparkling almost unnaturally.

 

“Er, I respect them both well, and they do have some great aspects in their deduction methods which I could actually use myself,” He scratched at his cheek a bit, and as miffed at the fact as Saguru was, he couldn’t help but feel his face tinge up.

  
“They’re also great friends of mine, and I can depend on them when I’m in trouble. Hattori here also drags me by the ear to all the udon and okonomiyaki shops in Osaka, and Hakuba-kun here shares our passion with Sherlock Holmes.”

  
Hattori spoke up, grinning, “Hey, I’ve got tons more if ya want to go try ‘em!”

 

The woman spoke up with some – familiar? – mischief.  
“You’ve mellowed out doing the past few years, yeah? It sounds like you’re very fond of them, hm?” She flashed a smirk, and Saguru felt a shiver going down his spine, with the indigo eyes of the middle-aged woman flashing.

  
“Hakuba-san, Hattori-han, is something the matter? You’re both very red, and that’s a pretty great feat in his case,” She gestured towards Heiji.

  
Saguru was amazed himself at how he managed to keep calm on the exterior in this situation. Internally, he was screaming. This reporter, and these honorifics, oh god, oh god _ohgod_.  
Shinichi blinked a few times, then leaned in towards Saguru, who was ramming his head mentally into a brick wall by then.

 

And Kudou Shinichi, who had even his own giant fanbase and worshippers and these long, dark eyelashes and the funny little cowlick pushed up his fringe and pressed his forehead against Saguru’s.

 

_Holy shit he's so perfect at this angle._

  
Saguru was pretty much mentally disabled by then.

  
Heiji made a strange squeaking noise near them, but the blonde almost didn’t hear it in favour of the slightly blushing, younger detective moving away and pressing a hand on his own forehead.

  
“K-Kudou..! What are ya doing?”

  
“You do have some kind of fever, Hakuba-kun. Maybe you should go home and rest after this.” He furrowed his dark eyebrows together slightly. Saguru pictured an image of his cowlicked detective feeding him, before mentally giving himself a harsh slap.

  
Saguru heaved some deep breaths and actually managed a, “I’m fine, Kudou-kun, but, er, the atmosphere in here is a little stifling of sorts, isn’t it?” He looked over to the side, and started to find the potted plant near the workdesk incredibly interesting.

  
“H-hey, Kudou! I’m sorta burning up ‘ere too, ya know!”

  
“Huh, Hattori too? Is there some kind of summer flu going around?” Shinichi turned around, and raised an eyebrow then went to lean close to the tanned teen to place a hand on his forehead. Saguru took this chance to pretend this situation was all a dream and looked to the reporter.

 

Wait, oh shit, _oh shit_ , isn’t that the fucking _Kid grin_?

 

The reporter, without much warning, ‘accidentally’ veered to her right and shoved Hattori forward and-

 

 _Saguru is – for a lack of a better word – horrified_.

 

_“Mmph?!”_

  
“W-woah, woah hey, hey, hey?” Hattori stuttered, face a rare shade of cherry, and pulled away as quickly as he leaned in.

  
Shinichi blushed as well, though not as visibly, with his slender fingers covering half his face. His sapphire eyes flickered over to Saguru’s gaping expression, before said redness of the face only increased three-fold.

 

When Saguru finally gathered his wits and turned seethingly towards the ‘reporter’, he turned only to find an empty space where she once sat.

  
“That.. That, ughh!” The European detective suddenly had the urge to rip all his hair out.

  
“There’s a note there..” Shinichi pointed meekly towards the cushion, and, lo and behold, a white card sat daintily propped on the cushion with two little, strange packages beside it.  
Heiji picked up the card reluctantly, as if he was touching something vile and began to read it aloud.

“Dearest tantei-san and tantei-han,” Heiji’s expression turned into one of ‘are you fucking kidding me.’, “I have noticed some ‘suggestive’ hints towards my little darling meitantei-kun. So I went ahead and did you all a favour this time around.”

  
Heiji looked like he wanted to massacre the poor piece of cardboard.

  
“Oh, and about the little packages, you lot should keep them handy, in case you do find a spare room. Don’t worry, they’re strawberry flavoured, in case meitantei-kun doesn't like the taste of apple, which I'll be keeping for myself.

 

Yours truly,  
Kaitou KID.”

 

“…”

 

“…”

 

“Cause of death; violent mauling, decapitation and mutilation of various limbs, including reproductive organs leading to bleeding to death."

 

"If Kaitou Kid's murder won't make it ta the front pages tomorrow, I dunno what will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't understand the little package bit, then don't WORRY, YOU'RE STILL PURE (If you skipped Drabble 1.)


	6. Kaito/Shinichi – “You just had to murder someone at a fish festival.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because, who notices the rotting human corpse odour in the midst of a thousand already-rotting fish corpses..?  
> Detectives, Kaito grumbles, that's who.

Drabble 6.  
Kaito/Shinichi – “You just had to murder someone at a fish festival.”  
Chapter warnings: Gore.

\---

Kaito knew he had always had a weak point for his sapphire-eyed detective.

  
It started with the heists, with the adrenaline and the excitement waiting for him, waiting just for his movements to be anticipated and cut off.  
Even as little Conan, 'Tantei-kun' never ceased to amaze him. Of course at the beginning the thief was extremely off-put by the fact that just a thoroughly intelligent six year old could outsmart him.

  
But later on, he would be lying if he said that the identity confession to 'Kudou Shinichi' surprised him as much as the other’s reactions, take Mouri-chan for example, because there's always been this buzzing little sixth sense niggling at the edges of his mind.

  
And of course sometime Meitantei-kun would have to make an appearance someday, ever since the fall of the Black Organisation, deadly and a fight brushing death at every corner. Kaito knew, because he was there, the unknown waiting at every corner.

  
He just didn't think it would be now.

-.-.-

It was around noon, chatter from various crowds buzzing in his ears, Aoko pulling him along as he reluctantly trudged along, purposely scraping his already-scuffed shoes along the pavement. The breeze tasted salty on his lips.

  
And there they were, huge, lifeless eyes bulging out towards him, all around him, in various colourations and sizes. They sent shudders down Kaito's spine. The smell was putrid and overwhelming to his poor nose. He glanced around, paranoid and shuddering.  
All that time, Hakuba kept sending little amused glanced his way, but carried along nonetheless, which Kaito was truly thankful for.

  
Aoko, on the other hand, seemed hellbent to send Kaito twitching and madly rocketing to the nearest psychological ward, hiding under her pretty excuse of "Helping you to get over your fears, BaKaito."

  
"Kaito, stop being an immobilised sea cucumber and enjoy the view while you can. The Beikan Fish Festival is only held once every five years, and you're damn lucky that you get to attend at all," Aoko huffed, now using both hands to tow a queasy-looking magician along.

  
"His phobia is a force to be reckoned with," The half-Brit alongside then mused in amusement.

  
Kaito didn't dare comment, and settled for seething instead.  
Maybe Winnie the Pooh would look good on Hakuba, His chaotic mind began to turn again-

 

A scream pieced the air like an arrow.

  
"Holy shit he's dead!"

  
Hakuba whipped around immediately and ran towards the source of distress. A poor guy laid, slumped and pale and belly-up for all to admire his stomach and various other digestive organs peeking through ripped flesh with a cook's knife on the ground next to the stiff's head.

  
Speaking of digestive organs, Kaito felt like his were going for a marathon inside him. Looking over, Aoko seemed worse off than he was, hands still clutching Kaito's and trembling slightly, eyes fixated on the corpse.

  
Hakuba looked no better, but at least more used to the blood and gore and stench than the two were.  
"Eleven seconds on the dot since the point of discovery," Hakuba grimaced, standing up rather stiffly, "Although I estimate roughly less than an hour before death."

 

"Excuse me, coming through, please stand back and don't touch anything within ten meters from the scene."

 

The crowd parted to show a familiar cowlick and deep ocean eyes, which flickered over the area with concern and urgency, tinged slightly with distaste and grief.  
Kaito took a step back. The person took no notice of him, however, as the eyes scanned the area for abnormalities and anything out of place. With Kaito staring dumbfounded for the length of time he did, he might as well etched Kudou Shinichi's face well into his mind.

 

Hakuba stood up slowly, "Kudou-san, it's a fancy meeting you here."

  
Shinichi's face slowly turned, then brightened slightly, "Ah, Hakuba-kun, how are you?"

  
"Well enough not to back away from this grotesque scene, thank you," The blonde chuckled back in response, but was slightly deprived of humour.

  
"Ah, Kudou-kun, did something happen-" Inspector Megure pushed hastily through the crowd to stop and grimace stiffly at the scene.

  
"Exactly how it looks, I'd say the culprit's experienced with surgery procedures, like a surgeon, or a butcher," Hakuba stated.

  
"Ah, Hakuba-kun, you're here too.." Megure looked up, but from the look on his face, he was clearly think something along the lines of 'Holy shit already two corpse magnets here I hope another one won' t show up.'

  
"Woah, woah, if there' s a murder here in a damn fish festival then is Kudou 'ere as well?"

  
As if on cue, Hattori fucking Heiji decided to stick his head around the corner.  
A vein visibly popped up on Hakuba' s forehead. Shinichi pinched the bridge of his nose in heavy exasperation.

 

-.-.-

 

"Hm, this guy ain't got no identification."

  
"Ah, it's a pen with a name engraving, here, Kudou-kun, do you mind taking a look?"

  
"Uh, Fujitake Tetsuya, and this pen's from a small engraving store near this area."

  
"Hey, then let's go, ta guy that works there might know somethin'!"

  
_"Hattori, you're going the wrong way."_

 

"Whoops."

 

-.-.-

 

It was only a matter of time before the culprit confessed, sobbing and screaming excuses and admittances. Kaito found it quite pitiful, personally. But the three other detectives just looked at her in distaste. It was already past three, so the little group decided to find a small restaurant to spend the evening and silence their stomachs.

 

Looking around him, the boutiques and whatever other shops there were around them (They left the festival way back, thank god, if they were to spend another moment in there, Kaito's personally castrating someone), the air was fresh, and people all ages scrabbled around busily.

  
Every now and then, his indigo eyes always flickered towards the cowlicked detective walking in front of them. In the sunlight, he was gorgeous, laughing here and there with Hattori and pasting on his stoic expression with Hakuba (Which Kaito always found an undertone of sincerity).

 

It was then that Kaito desperately wished these little upturns on the chapped lips and furrow of perfectly shaped eyebrows and - and the radiating smiles and infuriating smirks were directed towards him. It made his heart clench a tiny bit, and throat feeling like he had swallowed a stone. But he lagged behind, since Shinichi didn't even know him in his civilian identity.  
He could only look at him from where he was right now.  
It wouldn't just be a figure of speech to say that he was jealous of KID right now, who received all these things at his heists, during the heat of the chases.

 

“Oh! It’s a ramen shop!” Ran exclaimed to Kazuha and Aoko, and both girls smiled brightly at the possibility of steaming, hot ramen.

 

-.-.-

 

“So, is there a reason why a mighty jewel thief is hanging around a mediocre seafood festival?” Shinichi fumbled around with his chopsticks, and said the phrase as simply as stating the weather.  
Kaito choked, bursting into a coughing fit.

 

Poker face. _Poker face._

 

“Eh? Where?” Kaito was truly thankful to the gods that their companions all went over to crowd the mini buffet area at the other end of the restaurant.

Shinichi yawned in response.

  
“Damn, I didn’t get enough coffee this morning.”

 

Kaito was dumbfounded for a few seconds, before shaking himself out of it. 

  
“What?”

  
Kaito was positively _drenched_ in cold sweat now.

Thank the lords for the loud Osakan and his voice.

 

“Oi, ya guys can go an’ get what you want now. Woah, woah. Hakuba, salad is all you get?” Heiji called out from halfway across the store. Shinichi winched.

  
Saguru’s snort was very audible.

 

-.-.-

 

Along the way to the train station, Shinichi dropped so many hints Kaito didn’t even bother counting anymore. Every time Kaito started to question the detective about it whenever the rest of their group was out of hearing range, Shinichi acted like the past few minutes simply didn’t happen.

 

It wasn’t until they waved goodbye to the Osakan duo and started walking towards the Ekoda platform that Kaito wanted to throw up his hands in frustration.

  
Had his dear detective really been all this indirect and teasing before?

 

The magician saw his one opening when Ran tried to help Aoko find her ticket, towing Saguru along, and when the detective was lost in some of his musings, Kaito leant in and, of course, did the inevitable.

  
Shinichi didn’t know what was even happening until he looked straight forward and felt himself pinned to the wall with Kaito thoroughly exploring his mouth. Shinichi’s eyes widened and squirmed uncomfortably. He could feel a strong, dominant toungue playing around with Shinichi's and subconsciously opened his mouth further.

They stayed there for minutes, tasting each other.

  
Kaito drew back with a breathy sigh, “It’s what you get when you tease a professional trickster and gentleman thief.”

  
“..W-what the hell?” Came the response.

 

“Ehem, Kaito, our transport will be arriving in a few minutes.”

 

Kaito froze and turned his head stiffly around.  
Saguru stood with his arms crossed, clearing unamused.  
Aoko looked like she was going to slice someone’s head off via mop in the next five minutes, yet she sported a wild blush.  
Ran, oh poor, Ran, was leaning into the wall with hands over her face and mumbling something along the lines of “Oh my gosh my childhood crush just got kissed by his identical twin what do I do _what do I do_.”

 

Kaito then nervously turned around to find Shinichi, with his hands on his hips, glaring at him head-on, but a blush still lingered around his cheeks.

 

“BaKaito! You’re losing a limb today, whether you l-like it or not!” Aoko half-sobbed half screamed.

 

“Ouch.”

 

And the next half hour was well spent on convincing Ran (Who was prepared to break the concrete ground under them if anyone other than Shinichi came a good ten meters in her radius) that his childhood friend was not homosexual (although, the apparent blush on said childhood friend said so otherwise).

Hakuba had disappeared from his original position and later found standing over _another body_ surrounded by police.

 

To cut a long story short, they missed the last train of the night.

 

“Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t drag me to a f-f- slimy things festival, Ahoko.”  
“Yes, yes, blame the seafood who did nothing wrong. Oh, I bought five ocean trout which I’m making you for breakfast.”

 

“Ran, I-“  
“Shinichi, don't talk to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I did not just go and break two innocent girl's hearts.  
> Nope.


	7. Tooru/Conan - “Not saying I hate you, but if your face was on fire and I had a glass of water, I’d drink it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru has developed an undying hate for lightbulbs and anything remotely related.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun with this

Drabble 7.  
Tooru/Conan - “Not saying I hate you, but if your face was on fire and I had a glass of water, _I’d drink it_.”  
Chapter warnings: Hella lotta sass and snark.  
\---

 _Kogoro ate all of last night’s leftovers again._  
Conan sighed and closed the refrigerator with a small, pained sigh.  
Ran was at karate practice again, preparing for the tournament later on in the week. With her gone, there wasn’t left a single entity in the area that Conan knew could cook decently.

Wait, something smells like it’s burning up.

And to the diminished detective’s further horror he followed dark fumes to an open window, stuck his head out, and found the side of Poirot burning.

  
Without further thinking, Conan leapt down from the windowsill, threw on his coat and shoes in haste, and practically slid down the stairs and ran to the front of the coffee shop, all the while dialling the fire department and, _hell_ , even Division One judging from past experience.

To Conan’s (un)surprise, the friendly neighbourhood alcoholic beverage was standing to the side, holding a hose and spraying the water onto the growing flames with a weary look in his eyes, while Azusa-san ran around in frantic behind him, herding a group of customers onto the street.

“Ne, ne Amuro-niichan, what happened?” Conan walked up to the blonde and pointed towards the flames, which were decreasing due to the arrival of the fire department. He shook some of the water spray out of his hair and rubbed his glasses.  
Tooru actually heaved a sigh.

  
“One of the light bulbs malfunctioned, since, Amuro-kun forgot to change it last week,” Azusa chirped, coming up from behind them, with some irritation stirred in.  
Tooru sighed and ruffled his blonde hair.

Conan suppressed a yawn. And here he thought it was arson.

  
“What happened, Conan-kun?” Takagi’s voice asked behind the detective.

  
“Oh, haha, I wanted to dial the fire department, but I must’ve dialled the wrong number, sorry Takagi-keiji,” Conan scratched his head.

  
Takagi raised an eyebrow, but let it slide, “Do you know how the fire happened?”

  
Tooru switched off the garden hose and walked over to the duo, “Electrical issues, sorry officer,” He laughed sheepishly.

  
“And whose fault is that, I wonder,” Conan mumbled under his breath.  
Tooru shot a look.

  
“Your residence received two bomb threats so far.”

“Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.”

“As well as a couple more in your past life.”

Conan snorted, “The last thing I want is an argument, nii-chan. But it’s still on the list.”  
Takagi slowly shuffled back.

“If I agreed with you, we’d both be wrong.”

They were both silent for a few seconds.

Tooru smiled, “They say he who smiles in a crisis has found someone to blame.”

“Well, the one truth in this conversation is and was always the fact that Amuro-niichan’s unsteady set of comebacks.”

“My opinions may have changed,” Tooru huffed, “But not the fact that I’m right.”

“I intend to live long, so far so good,” Conan snapped. Tooru internally chuckled at the implications behind the sentence.

“I just remembered, if the world didn’t suck, we’d all fall off.”  
Tooru barely registered the fact that Inspector Megure was poking him in the arm while Officer Satou was waving a hand in front of Conan’s face, but he ignored it.

“When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the fire department usually uses water,” Conan gestured behind him to a few fire-fighters.

“But I’m not the one who usually chases people who ask ‘Does this cloth smell like chloroform to you?’” Tooru snorted.

“If I didn’t, Japan would be depopulated by now,” Conan pouted.

“But the very fact that Japan is plenty overpopulated right now severely contradicts your statement. It shows me you’re overconfident of sorts.”

“I don’t have an attitude problem. _You have a perception problem_.”

By then a small crowd had gathered around them, some watching with curiosity, while others with no small amount of amusement.  
At some point, even Ran joined the crowd, a look of half confusion and half hilarity etched onto her face, but she didn’t say anything, only watched her surrogate little brother snap at the waiter and – somehow – look intimidating (Even though the kid only barely reached his knees, to Tooru’s amusement).

“Conan-kun, er, it’s past nine, don’t you think you should go home by now?” Megure kneeled down beside Conan. The boy in question checked his watch, and almost jumped when Ran placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“R-Ran-neechan!”  
“Come on, Conan-kun, don’t you think Amuro-san’s been through enough today?”

Tooru couldn’t help but feel some relief and endearment as he watched Conan wave his arms around and advertising the fact that he ‘wasn’t tired’.  
Tooru knelt down and patted Conan on the head. Even with all of his mature nature and keen eye, he had his childish side.  
And it was then that Tooru just had to place a small kiss on the boy’s forehead, earning a stutter and a childish blush in return, before Ran dragged him off towards the direction of the agency.

Azusa walked up to the tanned waiter from behind, and tried – and failed – to suppress a small giggle.

“My mother used to tell me that friends may come and go, but enemies just keep accumulating. I’m just not sure where that little boy fits on the scale.”


	8. Division One/Shinichi – “Holy shit Kudou-kun is that a maid dress..?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's one of these days when he wants to murder an article of clothing. There has been more in the past, but that's another story for another time.

Drabble 8.

Division One/Shinichi – “Holy shit Kudou-kun is that a maid dress..?”

Chapter warnings: Crossdressing, groping (minor)

\---

 

“Ra-an! I can’t do this!” Shinichi screeched with the power of a banshee (or so he thought) and shoved back the articles of rather frilly clothing and a black wig back into the karate champion’s arms.

 

“But Shinichi! Our play this year’s specially set in a café! And the actor for the main maid character was injured from a netball accident, and I thought you’d be perfect since your acting skills suddenly improved from last year. I know your proportions are suspiciously similar to a girl’s, so I got this tailor-made for you!”

 

Shinichi wanted nothing more than to snort, _Of course my acting improved, since I’ve spent a year living with you and pretending twenty-four seven._

But instead opt for more screeching.

 

“W-wait, how do you know my proportions!?”

 

He earned an eye-roll as a reply, “You know, Yukiko-san does some very nice things for you if you just ask nicely.”

 

Shinichi slapped his forehead and dragged his hand down the side of his cheeks.

_That old lady!_

“Sonoko’s even willing to bring you two whole bags of Hawaiian coffee! This play’s important to the school, geez, Shinichi, and you looked good in the Dark Knight costume too!” Ran pouted, shoving the dastardly clothes back in the detective’s face.

As much as that sounds tempting to Shinichi, he would rather give up on exotic coffee beans than his dignity.

The doorbell suddenly chimed like a thunderbolt to Shinichi’s ears, and he hissed as he made his way to the door.

“Delivery for Kudou-san!” A man in a blue delivery service uniform hollered from the doorsteps.

 

“Yes, coming right away.”

 

Shinichi opened the door gingerly, casting his best friend a sideways glance before taking the box, and almost dropping it due to the weight (Shinichi took a whiff, and it smelled suspiciously like coffee) before closing the door with his foot.

 

Shinichi took a moment to look down at the mystery package in his arms.

 

A sticky-taped note jumped out to him, and Sonoko’s bold, capital writing captured her essence of irkiness perfectly.

 

**YOU’RE TAKING THE ROLE. NO BUTS.**

 

A painful noise came from the boy’s throat.

 

Ran didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh in pity, and placed the black and white costume on a nearby coffee table, and then slowly walked up from behind the soon to be traumatized detective.

 

“You’ll live.”

 

“I hope so too,” Shinichi walked stiffly over to the kitchen to place the bags of cursed beans down and hopefully lie down and cry.

 

“Now try these on before I make you try them on,” Ran growled from his side, aura darkening in an instant.

 

“Eh? H-hey, no, Ran!” Shinichi was dragged by the ear to the bathroom while the girl in question proceeded to pick up the costume from where she last left it.

 

“If you don’t get changed yourself, I’ll strip you down and do it myself.” There was a touch of hysterical amusement to the voice.

 

“R-Ran I didn’t know you were such a sadist!” Shinichi was on the brink of tears now, and pushed into the bathroom with his new clothes while the karate champion slammed the door.

“You’d better put the laced underwear on too, details are everything.”

 

“Eh?!”

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi reluctantly emerged from the bathroom, feeling _very_ awkward and exposed beyond comprehension.

 

A squeal thundered into his ears and Shinichi knew in a dooming instant that Sonoko has paid them a visit.

 

“Ran! They fit perfectly!” The blonde rushed up to the frozen boy and started staring him from the head down, then back up again, absently brushing hairs of the wig out of the way to inspect his chest area, before poking a finger down the collar and pulling outwards to emphasize the spaciness, “We’re either gonna have to fix this part a bit, or the detective geek’s going to have to grow some breasts.”

 

Shinichi flushed, _“Sonoko!”_ He hissed, but earned little to no reaction.

 

Ran was almost doubling over in laughter over at the corner, hiccups interrupting every so often.

 

And here was one of the times in Shinichi’s life where he thought that he couldn’t have possibly chosen a worse time period to be born in.

 

-.-.-

 

“Haibara, _help me_.”

 

“I’ve told you, there’s nothing I can do in a situation like this. It’s your fault for inheriting your mother’s feminine figure.”

 

If an action could describe Shinichi’s frustrations right now, it would be _throttle_.

 

A certain tea-blonde girl, that is.

 

Shinichi threw his head back onto the sofa and groaned like a zombie. Agasa looked over to the mourning boy worriedly, and his gaze flickered over to the only not-child left.

 

“Ai-kun, is Shinichi-kun alright?”

 

Ai huffed, and just sipped her tea once more, seemingly interested in the shapes the tea leaves made in the liquid.

“He’s bound for a one way trip to hell. Can’t cancel the ticket, don’t even try.”

 

“Ow, Haibara, that’s harsh. Couldn’t you be at least more pitiful for me before I go? I endured pain as a child with you for a year.”

 

“Oh, yes, the laboratory experiments were fun while they lasted.”

 

“…”

 

-.-.-

 

“Oh my god, Ran, _oh my god._ They just had to murder someone at the play while I’m still in the maid costume before the actual damn thing starts and now I can’t find my fucking clothes I need to change back into so I can go participate in the investigation,” Shinichi was seeing stars and almost hyperventilating, and Ran sat on a fold-up chair in front of him with a hand covering her face.

 

“I’m getting a recurring sense of deja-vu,” She muttered darkly, “Only a shitload worse.”

 

“And the entire Division One is here too! _Ran_!” Shinichi let out several strangled sobs and his voice was practically bouncing off the walls in the cramped dressing room.

 

“Shinichi, I have advice for you,” The detective’s daughter stood up with a clatter from her chair, leaving the boy in question to stop abruptly and star at her with wide eyes

 

She took a deep breath.

 

“Be a man, and get _out there_ , since no one will give a shit about what you’re wearing,” And with that, she snatched Shinichi by the collar, threw him out the door and locked it behind him.

 

Shinichi stood dumbfounded, then he turned around.

 

And bumped head on into Shiratori.

 

-.-.-

 

“K-Kudou-kun? Is that a-a..” Megure Juzo sputtered at the first sight of the thoroughly pissed off (and blushing) Saviour of the Police marching into the area in a frilly Lolita dress, stockings, black heels and a wig, topped off with a maid headband, with a highly disturbed (and red) Shiratori in tow.

 

“Keibu, let me see the scene,” Shinichi growled, feeling his face flush up again, a strand of hair falling onto his face and he blew it off with a huff.

 

“A-ah, yes, fight away, er, Takagi-kun.?”

 

The younger officer finally snapped out of his gaping and turned to an area where forensics flocked rather heavily, “Er, sure, t-this way, Kudou-kun..”

 

Takagi received an annoyed cheek tug from Satou (faint dust of pink lingering on her cheeks), and proceeded to stomp over to Chiba (and the many, many other officers who are either sputtering and blushing wildly or ogling the teen in a dress and tight-fit stockings strutting in front of them) to possibly even slap him to wake him up.

 

Other students, girls and boys, all stopped in recognition of Japan’s Great Detective crossdressing, as his heels clicked against the wooden floor and black hair flowing.

 

Some were pinching themselves, others were staring (rather inappropriately, Shinichi sighed) and some even took photos, although Shinichi ignored it the best he could, which was difficult considering the circumstances.

 

The detective’s ears could even pick up one Suzuki Sonoko’s mad fit of laughter and snorts in the background.

 

Shinichi walked around the scene and pulled out a pair of lacy, white gloves (kept in the apron pocket for the second scene) and bent down slightly to inspect the position of the body (which hasn’t yet been moved, thank god), near an open window close to the back of the room.

 

Shinichi thought bitterly that _he’d never made a worse mistake in his life_ , as a warm summer breeze swept through the window and through his legs.

 

The thin, light skirt flitted up with grace and began to fall down slowly, before it was roughly shoved down by one Great Detective with a red face and a rage building up.

 

But it was too late.

 

Various Division One officers and several onlookers already saw what they saw, and couldn’t look away, even after their view was interrupted by the skirt again. Shinichi wanted to, contradicting his morals severely, just kill someone in the room and lock himself in the restroom to starve and die of thirst.

 

Ugh, Ran was getting a full lecture of Holmes the minute he sees her.

 

-.-.-

 

“Amago-san, we’ll talk down at the station,” Satou growled as she went to reach for her handcuffs, but was roughly shoved to the side when said man made a run for it, obviously not ready for prison life.

 

Amago Akita looked around wildly. With his size, it’ll be easy to take a hostage in this room and flee while he has the chance. With the police closing in at the front of majority of the general onlookers, his options are limiting, _fast_.

 

And a certain little detective catches his hazel eyes, apparently still sulking and tearing off his wig as he makes his way to the stairs leading to the change rooms.

 

 

Without much second thought, the man grabs the teen by the hand and spins him around, pinning him on his chest towards the police officers, who suddenly freeze.

The boy makes a surprised squeak at the sudden movement, and Akita places a large hand over his mouth.

 

“Anyone dares move any closer and you won’t want to know what happens to the boy,” He sneered, backing further into the wall behind him.

 

The pudgy officer – called Chiba, he remembers – paces slowly towards him, holding his hands up, “A-Amago-san, please let go of Kudou-kun first and we can discuss this further.”

 

Akita snorted. Loudly.

Do they take him as a fool?

 

One of his hands moved over Shinichi’s chest, and the boy under him shivers.

 

“You came too close,” He laughs, and it comes out more like a cackle.

 

He can see the officers tense suddenly, and Chiba backs away.

The female with short hair and a pencil skirt is madly whispering orders into her communicator, but with a hostage like this, they won’t try anything.

 

He lets his hand creep down, and enjoys the feeling of one of the mightiest detectives in Japan tremble under him, so Akita nips at his ear, enjoying the dominance while it lasted.

 

Because it didn’t last long.

 

And he could barely register the boy slipping from his grip as a burning pain flared in his crotch, and the tingling of a solid and sharp object that had struck him brutally there.

Akita doubled over in pain, and felt a pair of handcuffs click silently onto his wrists.

 

And Shinichi stood over him, in all of his maid glory, hands on hips and a disgusted scowl on his face.

 

“Kudou-kun! Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine, Keibu,” He turned around, and dusted himself off, “I’ve dealt with sexual threats from criminals before, seems like the heels actually came in handy,” He stepped on his right feet twice, as to emphasize the point.

 

Some of the police and forensics officers blinked.

 

“Er, that’s good to know, but, Kudou-kun.. Sexual threats?” Shiratori seemed almost hesitant to ask the question.

 

It was the detective’s turn to blink.

 

“Oh, that. They didn’t do much to me, don’t worry. I’m good,” He laughed half heartedly, “Now if you’d excuse me, this costume is disturbing to wear.”

 

-.-.-

 

 _Oh my god_ , Megure screamed mentally as he sat in the passenger seat of the police car back to the station.

 

_Sure, Kudou-kun had a huge fanbase, was pretty handsome (or cute, if you look at it that way) and he has some ridiculously long eyelashes.._

_But he’s actually encountered multiple criminals who would take his purity without a second thought and not minded the least._

 

The inspector sobbed.

 

Takagi looked over with tired bags under his eyes, “Keibu, did you have the same dream as me? ..The one about Kudou-kun in a dress?”

 

“I pinched myself multiple times during the scenario so I assure you lot that it wasn’t,” Satou gritted from the back seats.

 

-.-.-

 

“Holy _shit_ , Kudou, you actually got dolled up in a maid uniform an’ solved a murder in it!” Heiji was suffocating in bouts of hysterical sobs, “Oh my god that guy even tried to grope ya too!”

 

“I hope you die, Hattori,” Shinichi growled, staring at anywhere but the TV playing a thorough rewind through the whole case, including the tactful heel kicking to the balls.

 

Heiji wheezed, and collapsed onto the floor and into one large tanned heap, “Now that I saw that, I can die happy.”

 

To the side, Ran looked distressingly blue in the face as she tried to keep her chortling under control while Kazuha blushed crimson, hiding her face behind her hands and the television continued blaring.

 

-.-.-

 

“Ah, meitantei-kun, I saw the news the other day,” Kid hid an amused grin behind his Poker Face.

 

“W-what?” Shinichi almost fell over.

 

“Although, I must say, the taste in ruffles was very poor, and some of the seams were in incorrect areas. If you want, I can bring you a special garment at my next heist that I tailored myself.”

 

“Wait.. ‘I tailored myself..’” Shinichi paused, “You had one all along?”

 

“Well, I was waiting for the day where I could dress you up accordingly,” The thief chuckled, “Without a soccer ball on my face, of course.”

 

Nevertheless, the great Phantom Thief 1412 was deathly accurately sleep-darted, and tried up in suspenders, and slung up onto the edge of the rooftop for all to admire that very night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so awkward now after rereading this heLP


	9. Saguru/Conan - "Enigma in glasses."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru's not a detective for nothing.

Drabble 9.

Saguru/Conan – “Enigma in glasses.”

Chapter warnings: Underage.

\---

 

Hakuba Saguru’s interest is, for once, _not_ fired up by either a flamboyant thief in white or a genius fictional Londoner.

 

It currently lies in a tiny grade schooler, complete with an oversized pair of glasses, with an aura of death enshrouding him so strong, it’s almost otherworldly. Yet, the layers and layers of masks and pretend wrapped around him – suffocating him, even – shouldn’t be necessary for a child so early on in his life.

 

And especially not the death, the rotten stench of corpses. It follows the boy in every footstep, begging to be released onto a nearby living being.

 

_Ah, yes, something like a reaper of souls, that was what he was._

 

Saguru snorted quietly as he walked through the aisles and aisles of books, precious knowledge. The supernatural is merely something fabricated by a superstitious human mind.

 

But looking away from that perspective, Edogawa Conan is a little, walking boy-shaped mystery. Secrets upon secrets, and when the blonde finds himself in these deep, sapphire eyes, he doesn’t see a child, seven years of age.

 

He doesn’t see any innocence lodged in the hypnotizing orbs.

 

Slender fingers brush the spines of books after books, occasionally sliding a few out into the light to flip through the pages, before replacing them carefully back in their positions.

He’s nearly at the end of the row, and if these last few don’t present him with the answers he so desperately needs right now, he’ll have to start looking in the newspapers section over by the far corner of the library.

 

 _Edogawa’s really something_ , Saguru muses, smiling lightly, caressing the old spines with a final delicate touch before striding over to a sign with bold letters.

 

 

Maybe that foolish old man Mouri Kogoro doesn’t even realise, nor his daughter. Conan’s not just thoroughly intelligent, nor even a child prodigy, but something unexplainable.

It’s something inside that calm and collected mind that draws curiosity to it.

 

Scarlet eyes scan over rumpled pieced of printed paper, all old and worn, but kept for research purposes. A fine layer of dust is settled over everything he sees.

 

Saguru stops.

 

There, on a newspaper dated two years ago – recent by media standards – was a set of startling blue eyes staring back to him.

It’s eerily familiar, and even the same striking smirk on the face of Kudou Shinichi some days before his so-called disappearance.

 

Something in the instinctual area of Saguru’s mind screamed _something’s off_ , so he shifts forward, closer to the shelf, and gingerly picks the paper up.

Conan’s announced that he’s cousins with the Heisei Holmes before, but it doesn’t make it any less disconcerting.

 

Saguru stiffens suddenly, an uncomforting thought etched into his mind, and places it to the side, and begins flicking through the whole lot of crumpled paper and dust particles, until he reaches the very back.

 

Through sheer luck, there was the picture of Kudou Yuusaku next to Inspector Megure, and by his side..

 

Saguru blanches and hurriedly digs into his pocket for his cell phone, unlocks it was haste and flips through his pictures.

 

Saguru opens a picture of Conan, taken while in an investigation (Saguru will never admit why he took it in the first place), mentally crops out the glasses and places it to the side of the child Shinichi’s newspaper photo.

 

His breath hitches.

 

-.-.-

 

“Ah, le le? Kogoro Oji-san, doesn’t this look like a picture of a hawk and a tree from far away?” Conan chirps, and to a regular person, it sounds like regular elementary curiosity, but for Saguru’s ears, it was strangely haunting and laced with deadly-serious undertones.

He tried not to flinch.

 

“Eh? Stay out of the way, brat, this is a police investigation, do you hea-” Kogoro huffed, before turning to a patch of blood huddled unevenly around the victim’s head.

 

“..Takagi-kun, round up the suspects and bring them in for a second round of questioning,” Megure nodded to his officer.

 

Saguru glanced briefly at the child below him, face holding a scowl again. Yet the air around his grew cold and calculating.

 

It was alluring, in a way, that such power and secrecy could be emitted from a simple child like this. Saguru has never seen a real expression from Conan other than this signature scowl. He could see that the childish playfulness is faked. Saguru’s not inexperienced with body language after all.

 

Looking around, Saguru could see that almost all of the officers have left the room, and jumped at the chance to ask the bespectacled boy currently walking to the door.

 

“Edogawa-kun?”

 

He jumped slightly, and turned around sheepishly, pasting an all-too-fake smile onto his face, “Yes, Hakuba-niichan?”

 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Saguru saw the child’s shoulders tense slghtly, then forcibly relaxed.

 

“Sure, niichan!” He began to walk to one of the many hallways of the mansion the man was murdered in.

 

Once they were out of earshot from any officers, Conan turned defensively and a low growl escaped his throat.

 

“..How much do you know?” He spat. Saguru almost took a step back in surprise. Size was always deceiving, and add in the venomous air, the atmosphere was almost suffocating.

 

“What do you mean, Edogawa-kun?” Saguru decided playing dumb was one of the more civil options in this situation and crouched down on one knee to give the meaning of no harm.

 

“Out with it, Hakuba. I see that look all the time when the police and detectives start questioning suspects, and the fact that you asked us to go to a secluded area means that this is something that you don’t want anyone in public to overhear.”

 

Saguru ran a hand through his hair, and internally noted the lack of honorifics, “You know too much to be a regular seven year old, Edogawa-kun.”

 

He could see Conan flip up his watch mechanism that commonly puts people to sleep, as Saguru saw too many times. He just hoped that his next few steps into the conversation will lead his to be discovered sleeping in a hallway.

 

“You know who I am,” Conan snarled, backing further into the wall. The blonde across from him made no movement, “Who are you doing this for?”

 

That caught Saguru. Conan – Shinichi, rather, - was hiding and on the run from someone. Most likely a criminal syndicate, since no other groups would have reason to try kill a talented detective.

 

“I’m not doing this for anyone, just my curiosity, Edo-Conan-kun,” Saguru held his hands up and tried to paste a sincere expression onto his face.

 

The boy relaxed slightly, but still showed no crack in his guard.

 

“I won’t do anything with this information. I’m not asking for trust, I’m just asking from my curiosity. Why are you like this?”

 

He hesitated, obviously weighing out the pros and cons, before glancing back at the hallway entrance and placed a hand on Saguru’s arm.

 

“Ah, Hakuba-niichan, did you go see the newest Gomera movie yesterday?” He asked in a high voice, and Saguru sat there dumbfounded – “Huh?” – for a few seconds before small fingers began tapping on his palm, and he forced himself to focus.

 

_Sharp angles, dots, straight lines. Ah._

_Pigpen cipher._

 

“Ah, no I didn’t Edogawa-kun. Was it interesting?” Saguru didn’t bother to inject much emotion into the sentence, and was focused more on the insistent and hurried tapping.

 

**_Untested drugs._ **

 

Saguru’s eyes widened but held his arm still.

 

“Really?” Conan even pouted slightly, likely out of habit, but didn’t lift his head.

 

**_Alcoholic components used to rearrange cellular compositions._ **

 

 ** _Does anyone else know about this?_** Saguru tapped back in Morse code on the child’s forehead before there wasn’t enough space to write in pigpen cipher.

 

Conan hesitated.

 

**_A few. They’re trusted._ **

 

Saguru decided that was enough for the time being, and the not-child was sweating and scanning the area as they both stood up, just in time to see Officer Satou escorting a sobbing young man – the son? – to the front door.

The duo scrambled out of the dim area.

 

“Ugh, this late already?” Kogoro grumbled, suppressing a yawn, “Buses are gone by now. Trains too.”

 

Conan pranced up to his side. Saguru stifled a chuckle.

 

“Ne, ne oji-san, can we spend the night at Hakuba-niichan’s?” His eyes shined bright as he pointed to the teen standing awkwardly off to the side.

 

“Oi, oi, that’s impolite to just storm into a strangers house and stay the night, brat,” The older man snorted, but Saguru could spot affection in his eyes as he mussed the boy’s hair.

 

“It’s absolutely fine, Mouri-san. My home isn’t far from here, and this late, I can’t willingly let you two walk alone back to your agency.”

 

Conan shot him a small, ‘I know you still have questions’ smile, genuine and throwing the European in for the loop.

 

“It’s okay then?” Kogoro asked, before mumbling “Gotta give Ran a call then.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

-.-.-

 

That night, with the first quarter moon hung high in the sky, with the clean smell of jasmine drifting in from open windows, Saguru made his way blindly through the dark to the kitchen.

 

His throat felt like it was on _fire_ from dehydration. He was so caught up in the mystery that was spending the night in his home and the case that he forgot to drink anything.

 

He poured himself a glass of the pure liquid without second thought.

 

When he made his way back to the room, he noticed that the door to a certain shrunken detective’s room was slightly ajar, and a dark brown cowlick sat next to the window, slightly hunched over and glasses on the floor.

 

Saguru slipped into the room and closed the door quietly, but Conan still managed to sense his presence, and whispered without turning around, “Can’t sleep either?”

 

Saguru shook his head, and placed himself down beside Conan, who was folding little pieces of origami cranes.

 

“Y’know, Sadako folded these little cranes in hopes of curing her illness. I wonder if I do the same, I’ll magically become normal again?” Conan chuckled dryly, but was accompanied with little humour.

 

They sat is silence for a little while afterwards, feeling the breeze flowing through the window.

 

“Thanks for letting me tell you at least part of my burden.”

 

Saguru turned, and smiled softly, “It’s a pleasure.”

 

He pulled Conan to lean against his side, and they dozed gently off, leaving red, blue and white paper cranes scattered across the floor, torn to pieces and folded again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually planned this to be smut but it took a crash off the emotional cliff sob


	10. Heiji/Shinichi - "Do you call this studying?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi just - desperately - wants to study for his finals. Heiji has-always has other plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of the tenth drabble, have some smut oUo

Drabble 10.

Heiji/Shinichi – “Do you call this studying?”

Chapter warnings: Heavy smut and use of sexual toys.

\---

 

“Hattori, get off me, idiot, this isn’t going to help my Japanese Literature marks.”

 

“But Ku-dou~! What am I supposed to do here if you’re studyin’?” Heiji groaned as he let go of the action of nuzzling against aforementioned boys neck.

 

“You said your physics was crap and needed my help, but in truth you just wanted to come over, right?” Shinichi looked over his shoulder to find a pouty Detective of the West sitting on his couch with his feet crossed. Heiji hopped from his spot down onto the ground and with one swift motion, had his blushing counterpart straddled on his lap.

 

“Wha-”

 

“Ya more comfortable now, aren’t ya?”

 

“You-you bastard!”

 

“But I’m your bastard.”

 

Shinichi gave up immediately after that. Whenever his lover gets into a ‘playful’ mode, shit will hit the fan and there’s no use struggling considering he’s overpowered by Heiji’s upper body muscles.

 

But he could try kicking the guy in the balls..

 

_Nah, he won’t want to be charged for domestic violence._

 

So instead, Shinichi focused – or tried to – on his pages of notes, and started chewing the end of his pencil (that Heiji gave him) and took a small sip of black coffee (Heiji calls it motor oil) from his cup (that, once again, Heiji bought for him).

 

Yet, he slipped out of his concentration repeatedly as he tried not to think about the large, strong hands roaming around his chest and stomach, occasionally pinching and twisting certain areas, which made Shinichi pant and try to stifle his moans.

 

“You jerk..” Shinichi muttered, writhing slightly to get himself out of the other’s grasp, which only proved useless.

 

“Wow, sure turned on quickly, Kudou,” Heiji had the nerve to fake innocence with his voice as he slid his fingers down to the trembling teen’s crotch.

 

“Sh-shut up, you ass,” The books lay forgotten on the coffee table.

 

“Aw, but you’ve got the better ass here.”

 

“Oi, oi, get off. Now.”

 

“Sorry, but no can do,” Heiji grinned and pulled down the zipper on Shinichi’s jeans, earning a mortified squeak of protest, which were apparently a readily lost cause on the former.

 

Moans escaped violently as Shinichi could do nothing but keep his balance of Heiji’s lap while he nibbled at little areas on Shinichi’s neck and ear, and stroked his hardened member, which was already leaking with precum.

 

“Hng..”

 

“Hm, oh right, where’s my bag?”

 

“..Huh?” Shinichi mewled at the loss of heat as the tanned boy stood up and dug around his barrel bag lying to the side of the sofa.

 

“Ah, here.”

 

“Eh?” Shinichi asked as something was tossed onto his lap. He stared at it with confusion, hilarity and mortification all bunched up in a single glare, and stiffly tilted his head up to utter in total disbelief.

 

“A.. vibrator?”

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?”

 

“Everything, Hattori.”

 

-.-.-

 

It was okay at first, nothing too over the top, and everything was within safe zone.

The plastic was cold and hard, and sent little shivers down his spine. What made it so much more awkward was the fact that Heiji was watching him intently all the time with a dead serious glint in his eyes.

 

And then, without a second’s hesitation, he reached over to pull out a small, plastic remote, and jammed the lever to the highest setting it could possibly go.

 

Shinichi jerked up, his entire body shaking and twitching with vibrations, clawing at the floorboards and collapsed in a heap with his backside up, still gripping around the solid, humming machine, for the world to see. He trembled and shifted, to try to reach the damned thing and pull it out in vain, but with even the slightest bit of movement, his insides spasmed at the frictional rubbing as he twisted his hips, and Shinichi could only remain in the same position and at the contentedly humming Osakan’s mercy, moaning and letting out small demands for the pleasurable torture to stop.

 

“Ah – Hattori, y-you, guh-!” Shinichi turned to glare at the teen now beside him, “I can k-kill you right now and – ah! – hide your c-corpse where even H-Hakuba won’t be able to find it.”

 

“I would like to see ya try with that up yer ass, Kudou,” Heiji cackled, and ran a finger around the ring of muscles still clenching involuntarily to the piece of plastic which was giving off a low hum. Shinichi gasped.

 

“I doubt that he’s even go lookin’ fer me, with the dangers of leaving us to in a single room, and that room will explode with the sheer amount of ego in it.”

 

And then Heiji snatched the end of the half-protruding vibrating dildo, and began to slowly push it into Shinichi’s hole, eliciting small, tight growls and little squeaks and moans.

Shinichi, now feeling a jolt of pleasure with the every little centimetre his western counterpart pushed it in, bucked his hips up further to invite the intrusion.

 

“H-Ha- _Heiji_ ,” He growled, low and huskily.

 

“Hm,” A pause, “Yes _Shin~ichi_?” Heiji actually had the right nerve to purr into the eastern’s ear, straining the syllables and used his wrist to twist the vibrator violently in a smooth, flicking motion, and Shinichi screamed, toes tensing up and back arching.

 

“F-fuck, hurry up,” Shinichi panted heavily, sweat dripping down his face and head lolled onto his shoulders, sporting a misty, half-lidded look in his blue eyes.

 

His counterpart paused for a small moment then smirked at his victory of the intention to push Shinichi to the begging point.

 

“Sure, sure, ya highness,” He grunted before, pulling the dildo out from deep inside his trembling rival-turned-lover and tossing it to the side, still fully functional and giving out low buzzes. Both teens could only pay so much attention to it in this situation, though.

 

Heii turned to Shinichi who was lying on the ground wantonly, green eyes savouring the sight. His normally pale and stoic face was heavily flushed, and his hips jerked up at the slightest touch. Long nails dug into the floorboards with tension.

 

And he pushed in, slowly and temptingly, gripping onto pale, smooth thighs to keep his balance. He could hear Shinichi’s hitch in breath and an unsaid urge screaming at him to just _move_.

 

So he did. Hard and demanding, he thrusted deep into Shinichi again and again, each time huge shivers and slithers of heat and pleasure jolting through their veins, and Heiji huffed as he tried to regain his breath, while Shinichi screamed and shook under him, sentences only coming out as half-formed phrases.

 

Heiji’s arms snaked around to grip Shinichi’s lower hips, and leant his head forward to suck on Shinichi’s neck, with the latter throwing his head suddenly onto his tanned boyfriend’s broad shoulders.

 

“Hah – shit, _Heiji_ , faster..”

 

Heiji loved the little, scarce moments when Shinichi felt the situation was desperate enough to scream his first name in such a way, making his spine tingle in an erotic way.

 

So he rammed and forced himself deep into the heat, and jammed himself almost desperately there repeatedly, until his built up tension released in a quick second, coming inside Shinichi, and filling him with warm, white liquid.

 

He drew out slowly, and noticing the desperate actions Shinichi made, to himself, shoved two fingers back into Shinichi’s backside and twisted them, curved and scraped them along the warm, soaked walls.

 

Shinichi hiccupped, and came, slumping down slowly; legs still spread out tiredly, and white spilling out and onto the floor. He breathed deeply and turned his head to Heiji, cowlicks amazingly even more wild than normal and glared. _Hard._

 

“What happened to studying?”

 

“But this is what study time is for, isn’t it?” Heiji picked up the white remote and switched it off.

 

The paler detective snorted, and picked up his now cold cup of ‘motor oil’ and dumped it all over the tanned boy with a blank face.

 

“H-hey!” He protested.

 

Shinichi laughed and sat up – or tried to – and winced, “We’re going to need a shower anyway.”

 

-.-.-

 

Outside the window, a furious girl in a ponytail resisted the urge to smash the window and charge into the room and throttle his childhood friend.

 

Another girl, with loose, long hair, standing a few meters to the side, held a distressing shade of scarlet on her face, clutching a few pieces of white paper. She walked forward to catch her friend’s arm which was aimed at the poor piece of glass that were originally peeking into.

 

“Kazuha-chan, p-please don’t cause property damage to Shinichi’s house.”

 

An exaggerated huff, “But Ran-chan, we thought we could be generous and come ta Kudou-kun’s house ta exchange notes with the boys, but instead saw Heiji – that idiot – just come an’ pounce on Kudou-kun!” Kazuha pointed into the window.

 

“But you were staring.”

 

“So were you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel strangely dirty for finishing this old one-shot //liesdownandcries


	11. Ran/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi – “Nintendo is an asshole.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which modern uncooperative electronic devices and whatnot has suddenly become the bane of a certain Osakan's existence.

 

Drabble 11.

Ran/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi – “Nintendo is an asshole.”

Chapter warnings: Heiji torture (in a screaming-at-technology kind of way). Severe amounts of it. And dense Shinichi, can't forget that //laughs.

I do not own Nintendo or it’s products in any form.

\---

 

Heiji felt the screaming need to just pick up the damn white machine sitting so innocently just a few feet away.

 

 _“Strike!”_ The remotely electronic voice exclaimed, and Heiji twitched.

 

 _Well, bowling is pretty overrated these days_ , Heiji grumbled and took a sip from his milkshake from the tabletop and leant back onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

 

Sure, sure, he had a brash temper, brash mouth and – maybe – a slightly heavy hand, but, hell, that doesn’t mean that the fucking Wii remote needs to be so overexaggeratedly reactive to the loud Osakan whenever he so much bumps into the remote. He didn’t even know you could ram a ball into the floor in Bowling.

 

And so, he continued to glare metaphorical holes into the widescreen television in front of him as Ran stood to the side, basking in the glory of her fourth strike in a row, now a four-bagger. She turned to face Shinichi, who was standing idly by, swinging his arms habitually (they’ve been binge-bowling for hours now) in a golf trance (He won almost all of their games, with two Condors and five Albatrosses to date).

 

Heiji slumped further into the leather under him, silently wishing for kendo to be also included onto the list of games, and so far, Heiji hasn’t found a single sport which could his quick-to-alight temper and famously short-standing irritability.

 

“How about some Wii-Fit?” Shinichi piped up, kneeling beside one of the drawers as he pushed through each and every one of the white cases.

 

“You don’t even have a Wii-Fit balance board, how do you even have that?” Ran softly snorted. Heiji brought up his legs onto the couch fabric and crossed them, still in a seemingly never-ending staring competition with the giant screen flashing in his face.

 

“I think my dad kidnapped it and hid it somewhere to use it as his personal writing board, or something,” The frowning teen replied, trying to recall the electronic’s whereabouts.

 

Heiji looked up, wanting to look away from all the motion on the screen, for the fear that he’d receive flash blindness as a result. The tally of the bowling game was still up and laughing in his face, and Heiji lagged behind a good thirty points while his counterpart didn’t participate at all. Shinichi seemed to have pulled a bicep while swinging a bit too hard on one of the last rounds of the 9-hole game.

 

He still managed two Eagles, though, and consistent birdies for the rest of the game.

 

The Osakan could only count two pars throughout the entire day, even though one of them was the level of skill in their deductions when someone decided to push a poor guy off a rooftop in the morning.

 

And if Heiji’s scientifically proven that that isn’t some supernatural power obtained from excessive caffeine absorption, Sherlock Holmes intake or at least some fucking natural talent, he’s setting fire to the nearest golf course. All the while considering that he’d get sent to jail for arson and still going for it.

 

“Uh, Hattori, are you comfortable with some Just Dance 2?” Shinichi asked with mild discomfort as his gaze barely caught Ran already sliding the disk into the mouth of the Wii.

 

Heiji snapped his head around with bewilderment before anyone would even be able to scream ‘Go Fish’ (Kuroba Kaito felt a nasty shiver travel down his spine) and was accompanied by a harsh crick in the neck.

 

But damn, Shinichi looks pretty good in tight jeans, Heiji has to admit, with his kneeling down in front of the storage of discs and tilting his head up to the side, Heiji doesn’t say anything for a moment, before almost falling off the couch when Ran’s questioning him and waving an irritated hand in front of his face before looking down to find that he spilled his caramel milkshake all over himself.

 

“Hattori-kun, where do you think you’re looking, eh?” The long-haired girl smiled down at him.

 

-.-.-

 

The tanned teen almost rolled, but still decided that walking down sanely was a hell lot more efficient, and slid his hand onto the staircase banister.

 

He nudged his nose into Shinichi’s green tee shirt, and appreciated the soft smell of coffee and fresh pine as he trudged down.

Heiji barely registered that he was nearing the bottom of the stairwell, and let go of the fabric, then turned his emerald eyes at the duo now sitting on the rub in the middle of the lounge room, with Shinichi hunched over a 3DS, dragging his stylus up and down the screen, with Ran staring at her childhood friend with a soft, fond look in her eyes.

 

“Ah, Hattori-kun!” Ran waved for the Osakan to come over, and gestured down at the device the paler detective had in his possession. A look of determination covered Shinichi’s face.

 

Ran motioned for him to sit down, “We found an old 3DS in the cabinet along with a Nintendogs game still inside. Shinichi had two Labradors named after me and Sonoko, and bought a German Shepard just then and named it after you!” She let out a giggle, and Heiji stared at Shinichi, leaning over the screen and furiously scrubbing the German Shepard, with black soap scuds forming everywhere on it’s fur.

 

“Ah, Hattori, do you want to try?” Shinichi turned his eyes up and beamed, blushes tinging the sides of his cheek, and Heiji suddenly felt the blood rush furiously to his head.

 

Ran grumbled, gaze running back and forth between the two, before smiling and crouching down to cling onto Shinichi, earning a sputter.

 

“Ne, Shinichi, you take care of these dogs so well you’ll make a good father one day won’t you?” She chirped.

 

Heiji twitched, _“Give me the DS.”_

 

-.-.-

 

_“Hattori that’s the second stylus you’ve lost in an hour.”_


	12. Ai/Conan - "I killed Mufasa."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conan sometimes just absolutely despises plays.  
> Oh, and Haibara, can't forget Haibara.

Drabble 12.

Ai/Conan – “I killed Mufasa.”

Chapter warnings: Ai being Ai heh. Also, the pairing in this drabble is more platonic than the others.

I do not own The Lion King in any form whatsoever.

\---

 

Conan trudged out of the cinema not much unlike a dead fish would, except just a bit more.. livingly.

 

He just sat through an approximately one and a half hour (or more) of an old child’s movie, which someone suddenly had the astonishing _wow_ idea of replaying in one of Beika’s largest cinemas, which, amazingly enough, was actually a hit with a number of children and couples.

 

Which, of course, the Shounen Tantei just couldn’t fight the urge to not come and see, as the movie’s fairly new to them, even though Shinichi has seen it a number of times in _his_ childhood.

 

But he’s not going to tell them that.

 

Genta walked in front of Conan and Ai, proudly holding up three – _three_ – large empty boxes of popcorn, all devoured by himself during the duration of the film. Mitsuhiko strutted beside him, lecturing the larger boy of the importances of regulation in substance intake.

 

People poured out of the exit, and some bumped into the shrunken teen unknowingly. _One of the negative aspects of being five foot tall_ , he gritted, as he struggled to keep the other three children in sight.

 

“Kudou-kun, did you enjoy the movie?” Ai came up alongside the boy and fell in pace with him, smirking.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen it thousands of times, lay it off, Haibara,” Conan snorted, and stifled a yawn.

What he really needed right now was a nap. He stayed up late rereading the Study of Scarlet, after all, and avoiding Ran’s hawk-eyed gaze. The stiff cinema seats didn’t help a bit in that aspect, and, in his personal opinion, the sound of the movie was far too loud for his liking.

 

-.-.-

 

They ran into a drug dealing in one of the alleyways on the way home. The dealer, a thirty eight year old man, was stabbed three times in the chest. He was found with two Lion King Tickets in his pocket, while the forensics took a variety of photos.

 

“I don’t have the time to deal with this shit,” Conan threw his hands up in frustration.

 

“Language, Conan-kun!” Ayumi yelled over towards him.

 

-.-.-

 

“Alright, class, we’ll be doing our class play this year on the Lion King!” Kobayashi-sensei chirped from the front of the room, voice barely reaching Conan, who was deep in thought, and he jerked up.

 

“Wait, seriously?” He looked over to Ai, who was picking at her nails absentmindedly at the side.

 

“She said it just then, what’s the point of asking me?” She looked up, mumbling, before propping her head on her hands and looking straight ahead.

 

Conan heaved a sigh, and fiddled with his glasses, then looked over to his other three friends brighten up. _At least they’re happy_ , he smiled sarcastically.

 

“So, we need to assign the roles now, who wants to be Simba?” A voice cut through, silencing the classroom and its occupants.

 

A series of hands shot up at rapid speed. Conan laid his head onto the desk and closed his eyes. _This will be a long day._

 

-.-.-

 

The bell, a light sound and a saviour of many lives, sounded, and permitted the release of various schoolchildren into freedom. Conan made his way to his shoe locker instead. He knew he didn’t pay much attention in class, but he shrugged the fact off like swatting a mere, small fly.

 

Kobayashi-sensei was going to turn the innocent play into a musical, after all, and Conan couldn’t be more disgruntled at her. Perhaps this was the result of his sullen and foreboding feeling from yesterday at the cinema’s.

 

“Ah, Conan-kun! There you are! You’re going to be Mufasa, is that okay with you?” Ayumi raced up to the boy’s side and panted, eyes shining.

 

“Eh?” That threw the boy in question for the loop.

 

“Ah, right, Ai-chan,” She gestured at the auburn-haired girl who was starting to open her locker a few meters away from the two, “You’re going to be Uncle Scar, since you can get scary sometimes too!”

 

Ai looked over in half-bemusement, and half bewilderment, eyes widening. Conan snorted silently.

 

Ayumi traced her steps back to the two boys waiting for the trio at the entrance of the school, and waved to the black-haired girl running up to them, and started discussing things Conan could vaguely believe to be about the play, and scene planning, and, in Genta’s case, eels for dinner, most likely.

 

“So, Kudou-kun,” Ai snapped the bespectacled boy out of his musings.

 

“Hm?” Conan hummed in reply, and shot the shrunken girl beside her a questioning look.  


“Ah, you’re going to have to fall off a cliff in your death scene,” She reminded, Conan groaned, and focused on walking straight ahead, gravel crunching under his red sneakers.

 

“I know that, Haibara, I know that,” He grumbled, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground, intently watching it roll over to the side.

 

“The school’s thinking of conducting the play with real props, real scenery and real locations, everything,” There was a sharp glint in her eyes, “They even booked an area of a wildlife part already.”

 

Conan paused, letting the words slowly sink in, before stiffly turning his head towards the mini-scientist and her smirk.

 

He croaked, “What.”

 

“Hm, have fun, and let me know if the trip down the cliff was fun,” The grey-eyed girl sauntered off with a small wave of her hand, to join the remainder of the Shounen Tantei.

 

Mitsuhiko turned to glance at Conan worriedly, then tapped Ai lightly on the shoulder, earning a “Hm?” in response.

 

“Is.. is Conan-kun alright?” The skinny boy questioned, shifting his bag’s weight and considering if her should wake his friend out of his trance.

 

“Ah, I just killed Mufasa,” She smirked back with a cackle to match.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After rereading this, I realised that the plot didn't make much sense ugh.


	13. Kaito/Shinichi – “Get your hands off me, criminal-!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi's life goals: defertilize each and every mafia boss with an excruciating kick down under. He's having some trouble completing said goal, though

 

Drabble 13.

Kaito/Shinichi – “Get your hands off me, criminal-!”

Chapter warnings: Mafia/Agent AU, molestation and I feel like this drabble contains more swearing than some of the others.

\---

 

“Agent 4869, Agent 4869, are you okay? Please respond, Agent 4869?!”

 

“Roger.. I’m f-fine..”

 

“4869, you don’t sound fine, if you’re sustaining an injury, contact internal paramedics please..”

 

“No, I’m fine..” Shinichi wheezed, clutching onto his arm, with blood seeping through his suit from the bullet wound.

 

“If you’re in need of assistance, contact us immediately, over.”

 

“Understood.”

 

Shinichi snapped shut his phone and glared up at the man dressed in white in front of him, violet eyes twinkling slightly in the moonlight.

 

“My, my, tantei-kun, still accepting calls in this position?” He whispered sultrily, cracking a smirk, leaning in closer.

 

“KID, you fucking bastard,” The shorter teen growling, trying to will himself further into the wall. This position was too uncomfortable for anyone’s liking.

 

“Ah, ah, Agent 4869; CONAN, let’s see if you’ll have the energy to scream that later,” The messy-haired boy sneered, and forced Shinichi into a harsh, fast and way too floppy kiss, with him running his tongue over the other’s teeth possessively, and Shinichi squirmed under him, hands desperately clawing at the taller’s chest in vain.

 

 _Shit,_ Shinichi’s thoughts hurdled, _he’s too strong to push away, and my gun’s by the side of the roof’s ledge._

 

His thoughts and careful considerations were jerked to a halt when a hand began reaching down, and he hissed, and, without a moment’s hesitation, pulled his ruffled hair as far back as he can, and slapped the boss as hard on the face as he could.

 

The moment skin came in contact with skin, a sharp slap echoed across the roof, and KID stumbled back, eyes sharpening, and holding a hand to his cheek.

 

“You little..”

 

Shinichi wiped his mouth hastily with his sleeve, and spat, “Some damn warning would be appreciated before you come up and, oh, I don’t know, _molest me_?”

 

“Ah, did you know, tantei-kun, that personality of yours can be a huge turn-off sometimes?” He stepped forward. Shinichi traced the wall with his hand and slid to his right, towards his Type 56-1, and slowly shifted himself into a defensive position.

 

And he blinked.

 

The guy disappeared.

 

“Shit-” His head snapped left and right, scanning furiously around the deserted rooftop, winds howling. He paced towards his gun.

 

“Nuh-uh, Secret-Japanese-Police-san, I want to have my fun first before you,” A breathy voice was carried with the breeze, and drifted into the agent’s ear, and his blood ran cold, and whipped around immediately.

 

KID’s eyes shone like glittering jewels in front of him, one amethyst and the other a rich sapphire, and Shinichi felt like he was drowning – suffocating – in the hues, before his back crashed against the concrete, and if it wasn’t for his protective reflexes, he’d have a concussion now.

 

Slender, calloused hands wasted no time tearing apart the dark blue jacket, leaving a white dress shirt and it’s miniscule buttons, which the mafia boss wasted no time prying apart with his teeth, and before Shinichi could retaliate, and perhaps slap him a second time, his hands were pinned above his head harmlessly, with just one hand and a crushing grip.

 

“What the hell – ah! – stop, d-dammit!”

 

The violet eyed seemingly payed no attention and licked and nipped viciously at the pale collarbone, forcing the younger teen to suppress a whimper.

 

“If you don’t stop struggling, this’ll make it more painful.”

 

“What-”

 

Shinichi clamped his mouth as hard as he could to force back down a rising moan, which he absolutely did not need the bastard hearing right now.

 

Fingers trailed down his backside, and caressed his buttocks, causing some horrified thrashing and kicking.

 

The hand slithered back around to the front, and lifted the flaps of the dress shirt up and began dragging down the zipper to reveal black boxers underneath.

This earned him a shriek of protest.

 

“Now, now, no need to rush, kitten.”

 

“Who the hell are you calling a ‘kitten’?!” The flushing agent snapped, twisting his arms in an attempt to free himself.

 

The boss hummed in response, grip still firm on the wrists and sliding his gaze down across the blue-eyed boy’s pale stomach, and maybe just a bit lower, and back up again.

 

And he was applauding himself for his victory, and leaning forward in a suggestive manner, when he was thrown off balance and onto _his_ back, and the _chack_ of a gun was like thunder to his ears. It looked like his valient struggling and pushing had bore some fruit, after all.

 

His hand still clutched onto the other’s wrists, but only one now, with a hollow barrel of a gun in front of his face, and a smooth finger twitching on the trigger. KID didn’t even have to see to know that the safety’s off.

 

“Game turned ‘round, _boss_ ,” Shinichi strained out the last word like a menace, shifting his weight, and almost letting a yelp when his backside brushed across the mafia’s leg.

 

“Oh? Still some fight left in you, I see.”

 

The gun shifted closer.

 

“Always did.”

 

And the glimmer in his eyes was so deep and enchanting and the sweat glimmering, grin wide, that KID, without any second thoughts whatsoever, threw his head upwards to lock his lips, at the same time, bodily dragging the agent’s hips against his own hardening erection.

 

“Secret Police! Hands up!” The door slammed open with huge force, and green eyes emerged, followed by reddish-oak. The former’s eyes were full of fury.

 

KID’s eyes flickered to the side. _They’re here already, eh?_

He quickly, and accurately pushed the smaller agent’s pressure points, and he slumped into KID’s lap.

 

Hattori Heiji gritted his teeth, and lunged towards the two sprawled on the floor in aggravation.

 

“You bitch, get off Ku-CONAN, bastard!”

 

“My, Agent 1313 ELLERY, getting possessive, hm?” KID sidestepped a lunge towards him, but he could feel the close range of the grab. 1313’s known for sharp movements and brash thinking, after all.

 

The blonde reappeared from behind the tanned teen, and was exteremerly close to flipping the boss maliciously onto the ground. Shinichi swayed in his arms.

 _Learn how to counter motherfucking judo,_ KID growled to himself, and make another point in his imaginary to-do list.

 

“Ah, 1528 WATSON, welcome, you’re here too,” KID beckoned. The tea-blonde snarled and growled through his communicator, “1412, west roof exit, over.”

 

A vibration sounded through the messy-haired teen’s breast pocket, and he glanced briefly behind him. _Ah, there’s my helicopter, with Aoko too,_ he mused _, probably’ll scream at me until I’ll be deaf._

 

“Well, then, dearest company, unfortunately I must take my leave,” He whistled as he grabbed onto the wooden rope-ladder, “Ciao! Don’t forget to send tantei-kun my best wishes!” He winked for good measure, and the whirring of the chopper blades accompanied the distancing of the rooftop, although, from the earpiece, he could hear curses picked up right and left by the bugs he planted.

 

“That damn flambouyant-”

 

“Son of a bitch, oi, Kudou, wake up, ya dope, did he do anything to you?”

 

“Hattori, we should prioritize getting Kudou-kun back to the base and let him rest, then allow him to add to our available information about KID.”

 

“Ugh, where am- Shit, where the fuck’s KID, that _bastard_ -!” Shinichi’s voice turned panicky and frustrated.

 

“I take my words back,” Saguru mumbled.

 

“Woah, woah, Kudou, breathe an’ tell us, just how the fuck did that guy even got to lay a hand on you, much less get you groped an’ molested.”

 

 

“..I’m never drinking my coffee before checking to see if it’s drugged or not.”

 

-.-.-

 

_ Omake _

 

“Hattori, I’m getting a location from the tracker Kudou-kun’s got on him,” Saguru huffed, climbing up the stairs and gaze scanning over his phone’s screen.

 

“Rooftop?”

 

“Rooftop.”

 

“Oi, hang on, I’m getting noises from the bug on him too,” Heiji skidded to a stop, and held a hand over his ear.

 

Static crackled, followed by various restrained whimpers and protests, undoubtly Shinichi’s.

 

“…”

 

“.. I had a dream the other day, an’ for the record, KID cubes on a kebab stick does sound pretty tasty right now, no cannibal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heiji's codename, ELLERY, is a reference to Ellery Queen, who Heiji favours, as opposed to Shinichi.
> 
> The code-numbers for Heiji, Kaito and Shinichi are pretty self-explanatory, but I'll make notes about them anyways.
> 
> 4869 - a reference to the Apotoxin.  
> 1313 - 13 is considered unlucky in Western culture, and repeat the numbers, and voilà, Heiji's luck!  
> 1412 - pretty self-explanatory
> 
> Saguru's code-number doesn't have any loopholes, unluckily for him.


	14. Kaito/Shinichi – “A death god lives in my garage.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaito always knew that each and every garage was haunted. It isn't always caused by ghosts though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was inspired by the book Skellig by David Almond, although the drabble plot’s been tweaked and fit into the canon so much it only barely resembles David’s //breathesheavily
> 
>  
> 
> And also, in this AU, KID doesn’t exist and Toichi still breathes, just to make things run smoother.

Drabble 14

Kaito/Shinichi – “A death god lives in my garage.”

Chapter warnings: Mild character death (?)

\---

 

At the beginning of winter, the Kuroba household of three moved into a new two-storey house, just at the other end of their original street, during the frosty days and harsh, early nights.

 

_“Kaito, you are never touching the stove in this new home, do you understand me?”_

_“Yes, mom.”_

 

Nearing the end of winter, Kuroba Chikage was found to be five months pregnant.

 

_“We should make a name for the baby now, don’t you think so too, dear?” Chikage cooed._

_Kuroba Toichi slowly looked up from his Sherlock Holmes novel with raised eyebrows._

 

A week later, Kuroba Kaito wheezed in laughter, eyes bright with hilarity and sparkling indigo.

 

_“What kinda name is Conan, mom?!”_

 

Weeks before the beginning of spring, the awakening of Persephone, baby Conan was born a dangerous two and a half months premature.

 

During the primary health check, he was diagnosed with severe congenital heart disease.

 

-.-.-

 

“Oh, Kaito, there should be spare cardboard boxes in the basement, would you mind getting some?”

 

“Sure, dad.”

 

Kaito spun his yellow torch around by the cord, and hummed as he made his way down the stairs, fingers brushing the railing, as he twisted the doorknob, to reveal darkness and a puff of dust hastily waved away.

 

Their family didn’t use the basement much, but kept spare and left over gardening equipment and miscellaneous items stored away down here.

 

Kaito peered around as he switched on the torch with a small _click_.

Cockroaches scurried back into the remaining cracks of darkness they could find, and everywhere the brunette swept his long beam of light, dust settled and old bits and pieces could be found here and there.

 

 _Cardboard, cardboard_ , he reminded himself repeatedly.

 

So it was unexpected, when all he came down for was storage boxes, that he whipped his head around at the small cough from one of the far corners.

 

“Who’s there?” He hissed, narrowing his eyes to peer into the gloom. He treaded a few steps forward and found a figure, curled in around itself, with dark, matted hair a pale complexion, wincing as he shielded himself from the light, covering his eyes – dark eye bags – with a bony hand. A funny cowlick stood up from his head.

 

“Who are you?” The standing boy growled, hairs standing on end. The boy across from him looked no older than him, but was dangerously underweight and weak.

 

“Get out,” He whispered, “Outsider.”

 

“Outsider?” Kaito echoed, but moved his torch to the wall behind the boy, in fear of blinding him.

 

“Go away,” The boy glared, dusty blue eyes glaring, and rustling his black coat, and attempted to stand up, but slumped down, staggering and heaving.

 

“Woah, are you oka-”

 

“Get _out_.”

 

And Kaito shivered, feeling the air around him dampen and drop to a lower temperature, and took a measly step backwards.

 

“Look, if you need help, I can help, are you okay?” The taller boy held his hands up in an attempt to communicate.

 

“You..” The cowlicked boy breathed, before clutching his chest is pain and gasping, gripping a nearby pipe.

 

“Hey, hey, are you really okay?” Kaito abandoned his torch, flinging it to the side, and rushed forward to catch the wavering boy.

 

“Don’t touch me-!”

 

“You’re damn sick!”

 

“If you touch m-me, you’ll die,” He strained out, leaving a wide-eyed Kaito before slumping to the ground out cold, breaths still ragged.

 

“Woah,” Kaito honestly didn’t know how to act at this stage. He reached for his torch and approached the boy. He was frail, weak, and looked like he hadn’t touched food for ages.

 

 _Food_ , Kaito realised, _he needs food._

 

-.-.-

 

He held two boxes of Chinese takeaway in hand, and scampered down the stairs, flinging open the door, and turned to the wall the wide-eyed blue-eyed boy sat at.

 

“I’ve got you food, eat up,” Kaito stated, tone completely serious.

 

“Why would I trust you?” He growled back.

 

“Everything about you says you’re unwell, unfed and neglected, eat first then we’ll talk later.”

 

The boy looked up and caught a whiff of nourishment, before eyes brightened, and nodded, but still carrying hesitation. Whenever Kaito shuffled forward, he seemed to be trying to will himself into the wall behind him, and Kaito eventually gave up and placed to boxes to the side and stepped back, and let him feed himself.

 

“First of all what’s your name?”

 

He paused, half chewing a dim sim, “..Shin..”

 

“Shin?” Kaito cocked an eyebrow, and crossed his legs.

 

“..Shinichi,” He huffed before breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and bringing mouthfuls of noodle to his mouth.

 

“Where are you from?” The brunette queried.

 

That was the question that obviously threw him for the loop, and he froze, before looking up and shaking his head, “You shouldn’t ask, you mortals shouldn’t know.”

 

“Huh?” Kaito didn’t dig into the issue any further.

 

“I’m done.”

 

“Wait, _what?_ It hasn’t even been five minutes-!”

 

“Is there a problem?”  


Kaito laughed, “Kudos to you, and your appetite. Even I can’t eat that fast.”

 

“..Kudos?” Shinichi cocked his head slightly.

 

“Ah, it means to applaud you for something you’ve done, or something like that,” He ran his hand through his ruffled hair, before taking the cartons and standing up to leave.

 

“Thank you for the food,” Shinichi whispered.

 

The other turned his head around, and cracked a smile, “Anytime, you can stay here for a bit more and I’ll bring some more food tomorrow,” He chucked his torch over, and the boy caught it with ease, inspecting it, “So you don’t get frightened in the dark.”

 

And with that, he shut the door.

 

-.-.-

 

“Hakuba, can you come here for a sec?”

 

The blonde turned around and stared at the asker warily, “Is this one of your tricks again?” His voice cracked.

 

“No, I’m actually serious, come here, I need your help,” Kaito stated, voice low and glancing around at the other students in the library.

 

Saguru narrowed his eyes, but stepped forward anyways. Over the years, he’s learnt that, you’re usually better off if you act willing to Kaito than if you run.

 

“What would you do if a person takes refuge in your basement and is apparently sick, malnourished and paranoid?”

 

“..What? Kuroba, is this a loophole?” Saguru fully expected for the other teen to crack a smirk and hit him over the head with a dye bomb or something equally awful, but he didn’t expect him to massage the tip of his nose and groan in desperation.

 

“I’m serious, I don’t know what to do, and I’m afraid if I report him to the police, he might get dangerous and shit,” The messy-haired teen sighed, voice laced with sincerity.

 

Saguru frowned, “You make him sound dangerous, is he?”

 

“I haven’t experienced it firsthand yet, but he’s got a sort of an aura hanging around him, and it’s heavy, and..” He tried to consider his words, “Deathly, in a way? He doesn’t act completely normal either.”

 

Saguru furrowed his brows. Kaito actually is being dead serious right now, and his curious instincts are screaming at him to at least take a look.

 

“Take me to your home after school; I’ll see what I can do.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Shinichi.”

 

The boy in question’s head snapped upwards.

“You bought others here..?”

 

Kaito realised that he hadn’t given his own name yet, “Kuroba Kaito, and this is Hakuba Saguru, my.. classmate,” He gestured to the blonde behind him.

 

Shinichi gave a small wave then began to pick at the hems of his coat again.

 

“Ah, Shinichi-san, can I ask you a few questions?” Saguru coughed. He earned a cautious nod in response.

 

“Look, before you ask anything, I’m not human,” He hissed, sending a wave of frost into the air, “And,” He sighed, “Since I do owe Kaito for him bringing me food, I’m a …minor deity, a death god.”

 

The latter part of the sentence was spoken so quietly the other two strained their ears to catch it.

 

“Come again?” Saguru couldn’t believe his ears.

 

Shinichi’s blue orbs sharpened, “I’m not repeating it, you heard me damn well.”

 

“Okay, I’m going to trust that you won’t harm us, since if you did want to, you would’ve killed me ages ago,” Kaito proceeded rather cautiously, “What are you doing in my basement?”

 

The shorter boy turned his head away, “..I was banished here, because I ridiculed Sonoko, a high-ranking goddess,” He almost growled.

 

“Woah, way to royalty,” Kaito muttered, earning a pointed glare from Saguru. The brunette froze when he actually let the earlier phrases – ‘death god’, ‘minor deity’ – and he whispered, “Can you save my brother?”

 

Saguru looked at the boy in confusion, obviously didn’t catch the sentence, but the ragged boy did, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of pity, consideration and understanding.

 

“I can’t.”

 

A silence lingered, the Kaito inhaled, “..Why not?! He’s not dead, he’s just got a heart disease-!”

 

“I can’t touch anything with a life force, and I can’t even get out of this goddamn room!” He screamed back, causing the others to flinch.

 

“But if I bring him to you, you can try, right?”

 

“I can’t guarantee anything, Kaito.”

 

“We can try.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Mom, what do you mean I can’t carry Conan anywhere anymore?”

 

“I’m sorry Kaito, his heart’s getting weaker and weaker, and unfamiliar movement might speed up his heart and risk a failure.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Shinichi, I can’t, Conan’s getting weaker,” Kaito whispered, heaving a heavy sigh.

 

“I see,” Shinichi’s voice was soft with sympathy.

 

“He’s dying, and none of us can do anything. We can’t even take him to the hospital without risking a heart attack on the way there. The doctors are coming on a daily basis.”

 

Shinichi said nothing to reply.

 

“You’re a god, I don’t care how minor you are, but isn’t there something you can do?!” Kaito pleaded, voice pitching upwards near the end of the sentence.

 

Shinichi growled and his eyes blazed.

 

“Do you think I’m not doing anything on _purpose_?! I can’t, Kaito, _I can’t_. Sure, I can cure his disease, but I’m stationary here! Whenever I touch the door or any wall other than this one, it repels me back! I want to see the sunlight and the outside as well-!” He spat, standing up, and sending ripples of luminance and deep, rich blue throughout the room, shaking it to the core. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his eyes glowed sapphire with anger.

 

“S-Shinichi!” What are you doing?”

 

“What am I _doing_?!” He growled, “You-”

 

And his energy died down, the room fading into darkness once more, and he slumped with his back against the wall, heaving.

 

“Shit, I used too much ener- Kaito, you – shit, don’t _touch me_ , you’ll _die_ , like everyone else I’ve touched!”

 

But Kaito didn’t even pause to consider the warning, and caught the deity in his arms without second consideration.

 

“Too late, I’ve already got you,” Kaito grinned, and Shinichi scrambled out of his arms and onto the floor, and scanned Kaito’s arms up and down.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You shouldn’t be, not when you’ve touched me,” Shinichi hissed, backing away, “Get out, now.”

 

“Shinichi-”

 

“Get. _Out_.”

 

And he found himself repelled towards the basement door and fallen on his backside outside the blasted-open door. The door slammed by itself.

 

Shinichi, in the dark and all alone, started to cry.

 

-.-.-

 

“He’s an extraordinary being, Kuroba, based on what he believes he can do to living things yesterday and what he’s personally told me,” Saguru shook his head in disbelief. Before all this, he hadn’t even remotely believed in gods, goddesses and any beliefs before.

 

Kaito sighed for a multitude of times that day and still counting, and twirled his noodles around his chopsticks.

 

“I’ve never felt what he’s feeling right now, but I can imagine it,” He hummed, tune void of emotion.

 

“..Is your brother okay?”

 

Kaito turned with dull eyes, and lowered his head.

 

“They say he won’t survive for another week.”

 

-.-.-

 

In the duration of the week, Kaito delivered the death god in his basement food in silence, and was returned with silence as well. Both parties didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.

 

On the fifth day, Kaito decided to speak up first.

 

“My brother’s going to die after tomorrow,” His voice cracked.

 

“Ah.”

 

“I was actually really excited for a brother, someone I could teach my pranks to, and have him follow me around, and I had always thought that he’d grow up, always younger than me, and likely die after me, but this,” He croaked, “This is just all fucked up,” He closed his eyes, “He still has his whole life in front of him.”

 

There was no reply, nothing to be said, so Kaito stood up, brushed off the imaginary dust on his shirt, and left without another word.

 

-.-.-

 

On the sixth day, Shinichi wasn’t there.

 

Kaito called Saguru with a desperate tone in his voice; Shinichi was already someone precious to him. His brother may as well be dead now, and Kaito couldn’t bare to lose another precious person.

 

“He’s not here,” Saguru wheezed at the dust.

 

“Keep looking, he has to be somewhere.”

 

The basement was confirmed empty, nothing but dust mites and cockroaches and dead insects. In desperation, they searched through the other parts of the house, and Kaito thanked whichever deity of luck it was that his parents were out at work.

 

Up above, the god Kid sneezed.

 

“Not the kitchen, bathrooms or lounge, check the bedrooms,” Kaito barked, though more to himself than both of them.

 

Kaito, Chikage and Toichi’s room all turned up empty and isolated.

 

“..Shit, Conan’s room.”

 

And they found him there, standing over the crib, eyes tender and tinged with sympathy. He glided three fingers over the baby’s forehead, and then looked at his fingers.

 

“Shini-”

 

“Ah, you guys found me,” Shinichi looked up and stepped away from the baby’s resting area, “Should’ve known.”

 

“How..?” Saguru sputtered.

 

Shinichi looked over the other two teens, then to Conan, who was sleeping soundly, then at himself, “Somehow.”

 

“That’s awfully vague, Shinichi,” Kaito squinted, was it just his imagination or was the cowlicked boy fading?

 

“Ah, yes, sorry sorry, that’s just a habit of mine. You won’t need to know, anyways,” He smiled sadly and placed his hands behind his back, “Because I’m going now.”

 

“W-what? Wait, Shinichi-!” Kaito reached towards the slowly transparent figure, skin now alabaster, as his words were caught on his tongue, “I-”

 

“I love you too, Kaito,” Shinichi breathed, laughing and opening his arms towards the violet-eyed teen, “ _See you_.”

 

“Shini-” Kaito grabbed at Shinichi’s arms, but he blinked, and there was nothing.

 

Nothing but the dust and ashes left in the god’s presence along with his ringing laughter.

 

-.-.-

 

Two years have passed.

 

Kaito hummed and watched Conan fiddle with his rose, with a small pout on his face as he wrinkles his nose and tries to see how his older brother flicked it out of his hand when they were both wearing singlets.

 

Conan grew up in the last two long years to be a carbon copy of Shinichi. It made sense, Kaito reasoned, as Shinichi was the one who gave his life force to Conan to let him live.

 

But it didn’t help the pain lessen.

 

Kaito had tried to forget the face, multiple times, even, but he couldn’t, not when the said face was appearing in his daily life at least three times a day. He’d given up ever since.

So it was just a lazy autumn morning, when his cell phone rung. He peered over and scowled in distaste at the sight of the caller ID.

 

He picked it up nonetheless.

 

“Hakuba? What does a prick like you need-”

 

“Kuroba, get over to Ekoda police station now,” Saguru’s voice was tight and demanding, with a hint of disbelief.

 

“Woah, woah, calm down, what happened?” Kaito blinked.

 

The two have started to trust each other in situations like this just a bit more, ever since the boy in the basement.

 

“You wouldn’t believe this,” The blonde growled from the other end of the line, “But you have to come. He’s not staying for much longer.”

 

“’He?’ Oi, Hakuba!” Kaito yelled into his cell, but Saguru already hung up. Sighing, he closed the piece of plastic and turned to his younger brother, who was staring at him with curious blue eyes, and for a second, déjà vu sent a shiver down his spine.

 

He brushed it off without too much thought.

 

“Hey, tantei-kun,” Kaito began, and Conan perked up at his nickname, “I’ve got to go out for a bit, stay safe, ‘kay?”

 

“Yes, nii-chan.”

 

-.-.-

 

He spotted Saguru talking to another boy the same age from the moment he walked into the station. The blonde colouring is pretty hard to miss in a place like Japan.

 

“Oi, Hakuba, what are you-” Kaito stopped mid-sentence. The brunette boy beside the half-brit turned at regarded Kaito with curious blue eyes.

 

Kaito instead, saw the flames and fury, all mixed with a _blinding_ rich blue, sending out blasting waves throughout the room, temperature distinctly dropping.

 

“Ah, you must be Kuroba-kun, Hakuba-kun was just mentioning you,” He held out a hand and let out a twitch of his lips upwards – a smile.

 

Kaito, breath stopped momentarily, saw a gentle yet sorrowful upwards turn of the lips, and arms held out as if to gesture him into a hug, and the laughter _echoed_ in his ears.

 

Saguru, eyeing the two, desperately motioned out to his classma– _friend_ – and mouthed a silent, yet, to Kaito, a crashing down to earth, _he doesn’t remember._

 

So Kaito could do nothing except take the hand weakly into a shake. The suited boy looked earnestly into his eyes.

 

“I’m Kudou Shinichi, detective. It’s our first time meeting, isn’t it?”

 


	15. Heiji/Shinichi & Kaito/Shinichi – “Greyscale.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere along the line, Kudou Shinichi stares into the mirror to find that he doesn't recognise the colour of his own eyes anymore.

Drabble 15

Heiji/Shinichi & Kaito/Shinichi – “Greyscale.”

Chapter warnings: Angst and jealousy

\---

 

Sometimes, when Shinichi stops and closes his eyes, in the darkness, the pitch black, he sees Ran, from that night, with a bullet wound in her forehead and blood splurting down her face.

He hears the screams of the people he could’ve saved, but he hadn’t. The darkness envelops him, and draws him in, until he can see nothing but greyscale in the once-colourful world.

 

His dreams are filled with death, empty and hollow, and his voice resounds against the invisible walls that he feels, but can’t see. It feels like he’s gone blind and deaf at the same time, and it frightens him to no end.

He’s trapped in these visions, trapped and with nowhere to hide himself.

 

He tries to reassure himself that he’s fine; that he’s living a _normal_ life now, and Gin’s dead, shot in the heart by the detective himself, with a forceful and vengeful _bang._

But he looks at his hands and he traced the life lines along his palms, absentmindedly wondering about the dangerously short length of the lines, but soon after, he brushes the thoughts away like a stray fly.

 

And day by day, he’s more lost than ever, and sometimes, he’s still waiting in front of the Mouri detective agency for the smiling brunette, to find that he’s late for class and that his childhood friend isn’t climbing down the stairs to join him, and never will be again.

It wrenches at his heart, but he forces his legs to walk, and pastes a mask onto his entire being all over again, regardless of if he can breathe in it or not.

 

University was similar to high school to no end, and Shinichi finds himself sometimes taking out his Teitan uniform from his wardrobe, before shaking his head and placing it back with care.

And he found, at one of the social justice lectures, Hattori Heiji waving him over, apparently gotten into the same university. The Osakan grinned at the sight of his eastern counterpart, but it soon faded when he caught sight of Shinichi’s eyes.

 

They were blank. A once-rich deep sapphire the western detective has come to love was faded, the ocean itself washed away.

 

Heiji knew something was wrong when his best friend didn’t contact him for up to months at a time, but he let it go, with the gut feeling telling him that he shouldn’t pry.

 

He’s regretting that now.

 

Day after day, he sees the boy grow weaker, but still forcing a smile. He’s even forced the boy to try to eat, by stuffing a spoonful of coffee-flavoured ice-cream down his throat, but he refused to swallow.

 

Heiji doesn’t know what to do.

 

He’s at the library during the break, looking through textbooks on insomnia and digestive disorders, and he spots a boy.

 

Well, that’s a plain way to put the fact out, isn’t it?

 

The boy, engaging in talk with Saguru, could even be passed off as Shinichi’s identical twin, save for the birds nest hair, and the sightly indigo orbs filled and flickering with life and mischief.

He stands there in front of the shelf dumbfounded and finger still resting on a medical workbook’s spine, gaping slightly, until the Shinichi-lookalike comes up to him and waves a hand in front of his face.

 

“You alright there?” He whistles, and Heiji snaps out of his shock, and gives a nervous laugh.

 

“I’m fine, ya just look like someone I know,” He replies.

 

The teen raises both eyebrows, before his expression converted to exasperation, “Sheesh, do I look so much like this Kudou person everyone talks about?” He waves an idle hand around.

 

“Ah, sort of, does everyone say the same thing?” Heiji asked, eyes scanning back over the medical section.

 

“Pretty much,” He huffs, and grins, “Kuroba Kaito, at your service,” He winks and a white rose pops out from his hand. It throws Heiji for a second.

 

“Woah, woah, ya swing that way?” Heiji teased, and Kaito pastes a hurt puppy face on, “Geez, sorry, I’m Hattori Heiji. Heiji’s fine, I’m pretty informal.”

 

“You from Osaka?”

 

“Hell yep. Great place, it is,” The Osakan hums, and crouches down to the lower shelves to resume his book search.

 

“Medical workbooks?” Kaito crouches down too, “You a med student?”

 

“No, it’s just..” Heiji pauses, picking at his words, “My friend’s pretty sick.”

 

“Kudou?” Kaito takes a wild guess, and his new tanned friend turns around to look at him with bemused eyes.

 

“How did ya know?” He asks with some decent amount of curiosity.

 

“Well, rumours all say you two are pretty much stuck at the hip,” Kaito laughed, and _boy_ , Heiji thinks, does it sound like Shinichi years ago.

 

“Wait, what?! Seriously?” Heiji turned, flustered, “No, we’re just best buds, after all the shit and.. yeah!” He stammered eloquently.

 

Kaito wriggled an eyebrow, “What did you two go through?”

 

“Good afternoon, Hattori-kun,” Saguru walked over, Hound of Baskervilles in hand. Heiji twitched at the voice, “Just great.”

 

“Oi, isn’t that Kudou?” Kaito gestured over to one of the further areas, towards a skinny boy and his signature cowlick, sitting at one of the tables and a thick history textbook open on the desk. His complexion _screamed_ malnourished, and his eyes tired, lurking with unspoken fears.

 

“Oh.. yeah, it is,” Heiji’s voice dropped to a whisper. Something inside him lurched, seeing the formerly enthusiastic friend in such a state, and it was as overwhelming as the number of deaths Shinichi averagely encounters every week.

 

“He doesn’t look too well, does he?” Saguru asked voice low, but his tone suggested that the question didn’t need any answer. There was nothing to answer with.

 

-.-.-

 

Kaito hasn’t seen his favourite detective, the one that could give him the most thrills, and the one with an unspoken pact with since a year ago. He scans over the crowd every full moon, but finds no sign of the shrunken-then-reverted detective. He still sees his face in the paper, so the thief’s convinced that the boy’s safe.

 

But not necessarily healthy.

 

Sometimes, he has the screaming and kicking urge to just storm fort into the Kudou Mansion and force feed the boy, or drug him to make him go to sleep for a decent while, but he holds back. Something like that won’t reverse the Mouri girl’s murder. He holds back because he thinks it’s none of his business.

 

He holds back.

 

Kaito knocks on Shinichi’s dorm room on a Saturday (And just next door, too), and waits. The door opens almost lazily, and out steps the detective he hasn’t seen for almost two years. Shinichi greets Kaito with a smile, “Come in.”

 

“Ah, Kudou-kun, I have some questions about the law exam we did the other day, and I heard you’re one of top scorers,” He chirped, but he could feel his exaggerated smile hurting around the sides.

 

“Oh, yes from last week, right?” He replied, walking over to a shelf where, Kaito guesses, he keeps his work.

 

“Yes,” He replies stiffly, looking around the detective’s room. It’s kept neat, almost to the point of plain, and the smell of black coffee lingers around the room.

 

The rest of the evening drifted through like passing scenery, and Kaito slipped little questions in every now and then, acting simply out of curiosity. Shinichi answers some with ease, others with a slight uncertainty.

 

Kaito turned these answers over and over in his head, as his own doorknob to his room clicked.

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi wonders.

 

The boy just then – Kuroba Kaito, was it? – bore an uncanny resemblance to someone he’s sure he’s met before.

 

Sure, he had quite the shock when he first knocked on his door, seeing his doppelganger standing there with an expression hinted with worry.

Of course, he noticed the questions fired, but he answers them anyway. Something about the boy makes him trust him. He’s not sure if it’s these eyes that bore into him, with a warm familiarity, or the cheerful demeanour.

And he sits crosslegged on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and he realizes, as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, that the heavy weight constantly sitting on his back was lighter now, and he feels just a tiny bit more free than before.

 

He smiles, and it feels wonderful, like picking up an old, greyscale photo album, full of memories.

 

-.-.-

 

Heiji, in the next few weeks, can’t help but notice Shinichi slowly crawling out of his shell, and smiling more, air around him no longer so silent and deathly, and he’s secretly so grateful to Kaito, who invests the time and effort he does into helping his friend.

 

So when he’s walking through a shortcut to his favourite ramen shop, he freezes dead in his tracks.

Across from him, around the corner, Kaito’s pushing Shinichi into a kiss. The younger’s clawing at the magician’s arms, and his protests muffled.

 

And Heiji’s thoughts blank.

 

Before he knows, he’s dropped everything and stormed up to the brunette and lands a fist square in the cheek. The latter flinches and slams onto the ground, before he twitches when he looks up.

 

“Heiji.”

 

“Kuroba,” The Osakan lets the poison drip from his voice, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

The boy on the ground lets out a shuddering sigh, and holds his hands up, “I can.. explain.”

 

“Doesn’t cut it,” Heiji growls, before turning to his self-proclaimed best friend and wincing. His eyes were wide and grey – empty – again.

 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Kaito whispers low, hand moving away from his cheek, before glancing up with a little, regretful smile and pulling himself up, “Forgive me, tantei-han?”

 

Shinichi’s head snaps up with ferocious speed, “KI-”

 

“Shit, you were – all along!” Heiji roared, lunging at the Ekodan, but he was sidestepped, and when he turned, Kaito’s smile was still there, but there was no humor.

 

“See you.”

 

And both the Beikan and Osakan saw pink smoke, before looking up again to find the alley empty.

 

-.-.-

 

Throughout the week, Shinichi was in a daze. Kaito was sick all week long, in his dorm, and he even screamed at Saguru – his roommate by unlucky circumstances – to get out, so the blonde had no choice but to crash at his neighbour’s dorm, which happens to be Shinichi’s, and since he’s rooming alone, he welcomes his blonde companion in.

 

“I really don’t comprehend what has gotten into Kuroba,” Saguru sighs while taking a sip from his cup of Earl Grey, and looks over to Heiji, who insisted to come, scrolling through the news on his phone, and Shinichi.

 

Shinichi sits on the sofa, absentmindedly clicking through the channels in rapid succession.

 

“And we have a spare-”

“Welcome to the Junior Masterchef-”

“So this, folks, is how you eat a sausage-”

“Kaitou KID was shot today at his newest heist-”

“At Bunnings Warehouse-”

 

“Holy shit, Kaitou KID was shot-!” Heiji slammed his palm onto the wooden table, staring at his phone screen, while Saguru and Shinichi both stared at the television in disbelief.

 

The footage replayed to show KID – no, Kaito, - holding a red glimmer of a gem against the moonlight (Saguru swears the Ocean Sapphire is blue), before he jerks violently and titters over the edge, limp.

Shinichi sat rigid.

 

“Police have found the body and forensics have confirmed that the mighty Phantom Thief is not breathing, sustaining a sniper bullet in the lungs. Nakamori-keibu has confirmed that KID’s identity is indeed…”

 

And Shinichi slumps back against the couch, sound fading, light fading.

 

And the world gradually plunges into greyscale again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that was hard on the soul I'm sorry if I shaved a, what, ten years, off your lives?


	16. Gosho Boys/Shinichi & Ran/Shinichi – “Words of the Farthest Ends.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they forge on without an end in mind, trying to pick up the pieces of their crumbling world, always with the shadows creeping in their footsteps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA THE NOT-DRABBLE OF 5K+ WORDS.
> 
> Also, I guess this could count as a songfic..?
> 
> Lyrics are translated from the Japanese song Words of the Farthest Ends by Yuuhei Satellite.  
> Youtube vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poVbnVWd4ns
> 
> Translation credits to AmenTranslations from WordPress
> 
> Also, this is set in the Chain Chronicle game ‘verse, but may contain spoilers for the storyline. If anyone wants my referral code, just ask in the comments.

Drabble 16

Gosho Boys/Shinichi & Ran/Shinichi – “Words of the Farthest Ends.”

Chapter warnings: GIANT plot holes that I’m not bothered to patch, and angst.

\---

 

_Down from the sky the variety of sounds of the “end”, s_ _hroud the world, and resounds through the air._

 

Kaito’s breath grew ragged and heavy, his magic’s hue and brightness paling with every shot towards the monsters. The rabid clashing of swords and weapons and damn schreeching and howling was burning into his ears.

Saguru, behind him, looked no better. His blonde hair was tussled and wild, and his arms shook like a leaf in the wind, yet his arrows never gave up confidence, as he reached back into his quiver for a new batch. The determination of a Ranger. Kaito grimaced and turned back towards the battlefield. _This damn Black Army really doesn’t give up, do they?_ He gritted.

 

He hears Heiji’s roars in the midst of the black-cloaked creatures, anger and fury lashing out with every slash of his sword and the echoes of the metal of his shield.

He hears Ran, wild like a hurricane, long, dark hair a blur, her fist weapons a blur, but her injuries can’t last her much longer than this. Soldiers weren’t made to withstand heavy damage, unlike Heiji, a Knight, who looks to be sporting a cracked rib and a wound on his leg.

 

This leads Kaito, as he pauses to catch his breath and let his luminance supply replenish, to glance worriedly at Shinichi, and his brows furrowed and breathing heavy with every raise of his staff.

The boy was tired, no doubt, but had to be near the middle of the field, in front of Kaito and Saguru, to let his healing range reach the other two.

Shinichi’s always felt useless, unable to do anything but heal, heal, _heal_. Kaito gently reminds him that he’s a Cleric, and he’s saved their asses so many times already with his skills.

_Words of the farthest ends. I wish for the time when I can say them._

 

Sometimes, the Magician wants to reach out to the Cleric and let him into his arms, and caress him, whisper to him that they’ll be fine, that Shinichi’s just dragging himself down, that he’s special to the entire team.

 

That he’s special to Kaito.

 

But he can’t, not when the world’s like this and when everything can crumble at a slight touch, and innocent people dying almost every hour.

So every night, when he sees the sun dying out on the mountains and hill, and night engulfing them, he heaves a sigh and stares out, wondering how they even survived to this point in time.

 

_The life of this planet, Will likely come to its final breath with us together won’t it..?_

 

“This world is dying, slowly from the inside out.”

 

He’s come to say that phrase more times than he’s cared to imagine, but he does admit, if Heiji, Shinichi, Ran and, even Saguru weren’t here, he won’t have much to live for, really.

 

His father was his joy and everyday and his life. He admired the 5-star Magician, the leader of his guild. He learnt tricks and tips and all kinds of fascinating things with his father, while his mother smiled with fond exasperation. His old life was almost perfect, for him at least.

 

Then came the Black Army, the murders and the unknown, monsters, goblins, skeletons and all kinds of the supernatural appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Toichi was called out to the field regularly, to support the Holy Queen and the Holy Capital, even when the Kuroba family resided in the Vice Capital.

_While I let out a sigh, You’re now, far off, a small figure in the distance._

 

Day by day, his father grew weary. Bags formed under his eyes, and his voice had an old, worn tone to it.

Kaito noticed, and so did Chikage. His mother even tried to convince her husband to stay back with Yuusaku, their Cleric friend, to heal, but the Magician just shook his head quietly.

 

“People out there are dying, Chikage, darling. I need to do what I can. I need to do all this so when Kaito becomes a Magician himself, he can eventually see the world’s beauties rather than it’s abnormalities and monstrosity.”

 

And so, Toichi grew more and more distant, further and further away, until one day, he was gone without a trace.

 

_Rather than instinct, reason took the lead._

 

And Kaito and Chikage mourned and grieved, knowing that he’s lost, that he might be dead, or he might have been taken a prisoner by the Black Army. It wounded the two to no end, but they moved one, afraid to stitch up the gash on their hearts in fear that their memory of Toichi will be lost while doing so.

 

And the monsters dared set their beady, red eyes on the Vice Capital, their home.

They were everywhere, lurking everywhere, like a mould, undisturbed and gradually spreading out and along the wall without resistance. It was like a disease, spreading, and blackening everything around it and leaving a trail of mourning and loss and destruction in its wake.

 

Kaito hated them.

 

He trained, day and night, and hoped that he could reach his father’s level, and maybe avenge him, and maybe eradicate the beasts that surely took Kuroba Toichi’s life. He grit his teeth and continued straining himself, and pushing to his limits until he couldn’t anymore, and Chikage came and laid a blanket on the dozing boy and glanced back with worrisome eyes.

After all, there was no one Kaito came to admire and worship more than his father.

 

And it was just such an explosive irony that he’s ended up killing Toichi by his own spells.

 

He found the former Magician on the fifth day of the monster invasion on their district in the Vice Capital, and neither Kuroba could believe their eyes as they froze.

The head of the family was made into the monsters, dead and eyes lifeless, but could still be recognised. He carried himself along in a grotesque manner, and, along the other monsters storming the area, he was headed right for the boy and his mother.

 

So Kaito, he closed his eyes, and fired his father’s powerful, former spell at the creator himself, and couldn’t bare to unplug his ears to hear the inhumane screeching and howling from the entity.

 

He could still feel the many others of the same kind, possibly once human, headed towards them. They howl, and the gust of wind lets Kaito know that they’re pouncing. Ready to kill. Bloodthirsty.

 

And when he finally opens his eyes again, he sees an angel.

 

A boy his age, with a healing staff – clearly a cleric – holding his weapon up against the inhumanity and struggled to overcome the strength on him. He looked back with blue, blue, _worried_ eyes.

 

“You alright?” He asks, before gritting and turning to the black being in front of him, “Shit,” He whispers.

 

“Mou, _Dammit_ Shinichi, stop running off-!” A girl, long and flowy blown hair, maybe slightly older than the two, came rushing up and drew her sword with a swift, fluid motion, and sliced clean through the monster with ease. It crumpled to the ground, and it’s companions retreat, sensing a threat.

 

Chikage fainted, while Kaito slumped to the ground, unsure whether it was from fear or relief.

_Ever since that time when I burned with love there have remained no chances to speak these words._

 

And so, as the years wore by, flowing without pause, Kaito left his home, promising his mother that he’s still send letters via his messenger doves (A Kuroba family tradition).

He joined up with the boy who saved his life – _Shinichi_ – and Ran, both he’s so deeply in debt for.

He sees deep, lurking shadows in both of their eyes. He’s aware of the own darkness behind his violet orbs as well, so silent sympathy and understanding is shared. He doesn’t speak for any longer than necessary about any of their pasts.

 

And he’s begun to grow attached to them.

 

He doesn’t even realise it. It’s a bit like how one day you wake up, stare and stare up at the ceiling and realise that you’ve already lived for so long.

But he doesn’t mind the least. It’s been fun, having friends around to care for you. Somewhere along the way, they picked up Saguru, who insisted on coming with the trio (Kaito, in all honesty, thought he was a hybrid of an ass and a prick).

 

Heiji, Shinichi’s long time best friend, came along. He was like a whirlwind, Kaito mused, like he just came rolling along from just around the corner and began sticking to them like glue, insisting how “Kudou’s way too fragile fer the battlefield.”

 

So their little team was assembled. As Ran’s mother was a high official in the government, they were permitted extermination missions and travelling. Kaito remembers how he chirps up to his father, exclaiming how they can both take Chikage to see the sights outside the Vice Capital. Toichi merely shakes his head sadly, and ruffles his son’s hair.

 

Sometimes, he looks back, and wonders why he didn’t ever ask why.

_I closed my eyes, and sealed off my history._

 

And Kaito, every night, looks over to Shinichi, dozing slightly next to the campfire, and he smiles, knowing that, in a generation like this, so dark and so cruel, there was no time for feelings like Kaito’s.

 

And he closes his eyes and allows the tendrils of a dreamless night wash over him, pulling him in and in.

 

_I drown out and erase hidden feelings like this…_

 

Shinichi stares up to the sky longingly.

 

It’s been a long road, a winded one too. He’s content, happy, but there’s always a small hint of wistfulness in his tone of voice. He notices, but he doesn’t change.

 

The others will notice if he changes.

 

So he’s become a mask, covering everything. He’s afraid that he’d burden the others, his friends who are so strong and full of fire and determination.

Shinichi isn’t any of these things. How could he possibly be when he doesn’t even remember a whole chunk of his life?

 

So he closes his eyes, sucks in a breath, and lets the memories wander in his mind.

He was found in the middle of a field, alone and unconscious. The breeze whipping gently around him, and the smell of grass surrounding him. He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t open his eyes, and lets himself lie there, slowly falling into oblivion again.

 

And he’s pulled out of it again, from the violent shaking of his shoulders. Slowly, he opens his eyes, and comes face to face with a woman, ashen blonde curls framing her face and a worrisome expression pasted on her face.

Shinichi squints his eyes from the sun.

 

“Are you alright?” She asks, voice soft, as if she’s murmuring to an injured kitten.

 

Shinichi groans in response, and realises that he’s being asked a question.

 

“I’m.. fine,” He almost winces at how cracked his voice sounds.

The woman frowns, seemingly unconvinced, before turning.

 

“Yuusaku!” She hollers, “Can you come over here for a second? I found a little boy.”

 

A man sporting a large pair of glasses rushes over with a concerned look covering his face and entire body language, “Is he okay, Yukiko?”

 

The woman, Yukiko, faces Shinichi, “What’s your name?” She asks softly.

 

The boy pauses, before opening his mouth with uncertainty, “Sh.. Shinichi..?” He hadn’t meant for it to be a question.

 

“This is bad, he’s got amnesia. Let’s take him back to Winged Heights. That’s where the closest medic centre is.” Yuusaku nods. Shinichi blinks slowly in confusion.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

-.-.-

 

Life flowed along well. He was taken in by the couple, and given an education. He was found to be exceptionally bright, and took little to no interest with playing with toys and forming a social foundation. He befriended a girl, the same age and glittering periwinkle eyes, at first, only purely by necessity. Yuusaku and Yukiko travelled around a lot, and left their surrogate son to their next door neighbours, the Mouri family.

 

When he reached the age where he could attend school, a group, consisting of Mitsuhiko, Ayumi and Genta. Shinichi, exasperated, eventually let them under his wing. Ran found it quite endearing, from the sidelines.

 

They grew up peacefully, and time slid by, quietly, unknowingly, and before they knew it, they were all fourteen.

 

It was one of the darkest nights of Shinichi’s life.

 

He was called to the medic clinic, just a few blocks away from their home, and one of the biggest in the Borderton. Nurses and doctors scuttled about, and the clamour was quite near to deafening.

 

He was escorted into a patients room – Room 4869 – and on the bed, he saw his mother, with IV drips hanging around her to the point where, if she dared to sit up, she would possibly choke. Her shoulder was wrapped tightly with pristine white bandages, but no longer the pure shade.

 

It was a diseased shade of black, splotched and spreading and eating away at her from the inside out. Even as Shinichi stood there in the doorway frozen, with Ran behind her trembling, he could see her melancholic smile growing more and more monstrous by the second.

 

It was _sickening_ , to see something this impure and cannibalistic in the world.

 

“Kaa-san.”

 

“Shinichi, I’m home,” She hiccupped, and shifted slightly so her head was resting more comfortably on the pillow.

 

“..‘I’m’..?” Cerulean orbs widened.

 

Yukiko’s smile faltered, and her eyes dulled just a bit more. The heart monitor to the side beeped unknowingly in the tense silence.

 

“..Where’s tou-san?” Shinichi swallowed, honestly not wanting to ask this question.

 

The cleric closed her eyes, slumping into the bed, aura heavy, and she suddenly seemed to age thirty years in one go.

 

“He..” The blonde’s voice quivered, “He.. he was a man of honour. He will be remembered.”

 

Shinichi stilled. He had known his father to never give up at any rate, a determined man, that was what he was. It shocked the boy to the core, to suddenly come home one day, everything like normal (Normal, Shinichi laughed bitterly, was a brittle and mediocre word) and suddenly, at the drop of a hat, everything in his life flips upside down and inside out, a complete five-hundred and forty degrees.

 

“Yukiko,” Shinichi hissed, and the bedridden woman winced at the use of her first name by her own son, “Give it to me in bare, stripped words. Where is my father?”

 

A wobbly sigh, “..He’s dead, Shinichi. He died protecting me from a golem.”

 

Shinichi breathed stiffly, and walked over to his mother’s side, and placed a hand on his remaining family’s own, clammy ones. Yukiko sobbed quietly, choked up on her own words.

 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

 

“You?” Her voice came out raspy.

 

The blue-eyed boy shook his head sadly, “I’m not your biological son. Never was. I can’t feel the pain to your extent,” He hung his head, “I was probably a burden to both of you. With me at home, you two couldn’t go around as freely as you’ve like before, and it was me that pulled you back at the last mission resulting compulsory attendance in this mission..” He laughed. It was bitter and broken, and the sound curved around the water dripping down his cheeks.

He looked up with a jolt when the smiling woman lightly brushed a hand over his forehead.

 

“Shinichi. To Yuu-chan and my eyes, you were always our son, our little angel. We’re sorry, so sorry.. we weren’t fit to be the ones to raise you and love you.”

 

“But kaa-san, where do I..” He swallowed, “Where do I go now?”

 

His mother smiled, and looked over to Ran, who was looking to the ground with little tears streaking down her face, and the female cleric laughed, “There’s always Ran-chan, isn’t there?”

 

The girl realised she was being addressed to, and nodded hastily, “Shinichi, I’m here if you need me,” She cracked a smile.

 

Yukiko closed her eyes again, loosening her grip on Shinichi’s, “Ah, I guess it’s all well and good now,” And to Shinichi’s horror, the blackening on her shoulder began to climb over rapidly to her collarbones, and to the corner of her face, before it suddenly slowed, and Yukiko strained her grip on Shinichi’s hand.

 

‘Sorry,” She panted, “One more thing, over by the corner is Yuu-chan’s Holy Weapon. His last wish was for you to follow our paths,” She wheezed, a burdened smile and drops of tears flowing freely, “Please.. please remember your father and me, please..”

 

“W-wait! Kaa-san!” Shinichi yelled in horror, and tried to reach out, but froze. The woman lying in front of him was still, face still with an apologetic expression carved in it. The remaining warm, bubbly aura around his mother had dispersed.

 

“..Shinichi,” He turned to see Ran, who was holding a Cane of Yunagi, bright and glowing with a soft, orange light, and Shinichi twitched his lips upwards.

 

“..Thank you, Ran.”

 

-.-.-

 

Heiji met Shinichi at a Tavern, where he, admittedly, was drinking his ass off from his break-up with Kazuha, and just happened to spot the boy sitting alone, twirling his toothpick around idly. His friend with long brown hair (He’s assuming a Soldier) was chatting away with another sassy blonde girl (Ranger..?).

So, in need of some company, Heiji picked himself up and sat himself down in the seat next to the blue-eyed boy, startling him.

 

“Hey, you okay? You’ve been twiddlin’ with that stick for a while,” Heiji asked.

 

He looked up, confused, “Yeah, I’m fine, just.. thinking about things.”

 

“Ah,” Heiji nodded, not wanting to pry. People say he’s hot-blooded, brash, rough and rude etcetera, etcetera but he’s not the type to miss obvious body language, and this boy’s clearing states that something heavy’s happened to him.

 

“You a Knight?” He asks suddenly, motioning to Heiji’s shield on the side. The tanned boy scratched his cheek, “Yeah, Cleric, I’m guessing?” He earned a slow nod.

 

“Oh, I haven’t even introduced myself yet. Hattori Heiji here,” He grinned, holding out a hand. The dark-haired boy’s smile was strained, but took the handshake anyway.

 

“Kudou..” He paused at the word, edge of the syllable rolling off his tongue, “..Shini-”

 

“Ne, Shinichi, did you make a new friend? That’s pretty uncommon!” The brown-haired girl from before came up to the two, laughing. She earned a twitch of the eye in return.

 

“No, Ran, I met Hattori just a few minutes ago. What happened to ‘girl stuff’ with Sonoko?” Shinichi scowled. Hattori noted the casual stating of his surname with glee.

 

“Eh, we’re finished, I just wanted to see how you’re doing with the Tavern atmosphere. You never like these kinds of places,” There was a touch of concern in the girls voice, before she turned to the green-eyed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Mouri Ran, and Shinichi here’s not used to noisy placed and crowded areas,” She cracked a smile.

 

“Hattori Heiji.”

 

And before Heiji even knew what he was doing, he agreed to travel along with the two around to who-knows-where. He just shrugs and says to himself that he enjoys the company, and maybe, just maybe, he’s a bit attracted to these glittering ocean orbs from Shinichi.

 

But like hell is he admitting it.

 

-.-.-

 

Hakuba Saguru was slightly dumbfounded when he found a tanned teen chopping down a tree in his estate near the town of Barrierboro.

Apparently this Hattori Heiji was gathering wood for the campfire for his ‘team mates’. Saguru, always brimming with scepticism, decides to tag along with the guy, and possibly chew him out slightly about the laws of property damage amongst other things, such as the fact that Hattori’s accent is thoroughly ridiculous in his eyes.

His surprise-o-meter is upped a notch when he discovers that a small swarm of monsters are headed for their way, and the team springs into action, and coordinates almost perfectly (They were only a three-man team after all).

 

And so the blonde takes initiative, and joins into the fight, and was glad that he had remembered to bring his bow – a Prism Star – and his arrows, sniping off the monstrosities one by one, assisting off the sidelines. He earned several glances of thanks during the battle itself. Even with his inexperience, he was faring well, if not a bit shakily. But he trusted the other three to protect him and the blue-eyed boy, the Cleric of the group.

 

And then they stood, heaving, with corpses scattered around them. It was like a scene of a horror movie, with slaughter and massacre and carnage, _but this is real,_ Saguru swallowed, _it’s all real_.

Saguru realises he hasn’t seen enough to know, to wrap his head around the happenings of the outside world. Sure, he’s fended off some goblins and slimes trying to infiltrate his home, but somewhere out there, there’s a much bigger battle waging. And so the blonde shakes his head, and finally turns to the group – still slightly tipsy from adrenaline – and asks.

 

“May I.. travel with your group?”

 

-.-.-

 

_Unable to see anything but the horizon, there’s nowhere left to hide our bodies._

 

“We have.. reliable sources informing us that the Black Army is planning to infiltrate the Lake of Sand..” Megure, the guild leader of Division One, trails off, before shaking his head slightly and turning towards the group, “You’ve all been assigned a mission to- “A brief, hesitant pause, “-Protect Queen Miyano at all times.”

 

“Damn, the desert now?” Kaito muttered under his breath, while Saguru and Shinichi nod solemnly.

“Maybe because the Lake of Sand is weak right now with the lack of reinforcements from Soul Island and the Nine Territories since both regions are in a huge dispute?” Ran reasoned.

 

“They had ta pick the desert! The hell!” Heiji threw his arms up, and Saguru shot him a glare, “Hattori-kun, this mission is compulsory, whether you appreciate the aspects or not.”

 

“Shinichi? How do you feel about it?” Kaito turned to the blue-eyed boy with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Let’s go, if Miyano-san’s ragion falls, we’ll be following soon after.”

 

-.-.-

_Words of the farthest ends._

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” Kaito cried in desperation, “This was not how it was meant to go, Heiji, _get back here_ or you’ll go out of range from Shinichi’s healing!”

 

The knight paced back swiftly a few steps, eyes wide, “I know, I know!” He gritted.

Kaito grimaced, he had never seen _dragons_ in the Black Army, and none of them know an extensive lot about the armoured beasts, which, as the magician quotes Heiji, ‘Sucks ass.’

 

“Saguru, back up Ran – she’s low on health – and into formation three, I’ll shoot down the damn beast’s wings,” He gritted. He earned a nod of understanding.

 

“Shinichi-” Kaito started, but stopped when he saw the boy eyes wide and panting heavily, limbs stiff and heavy and obviously overdoing herself. He looked like he was living a nightmare, with skin pale and legs slightly quivering, but bit his lip and continuing seeping his life force into the staff.

Kaito’s eyes softened. Of course he thinks the responsibility would be his when Ran’s in such bad shape.

“Kuroba, pay attention!” Saguru gritted out from behind him, and the brunette snapped back to reality.

Throughout the battle, he kept a careful eye on his Cleric friend, away of how his shoulders sagged with every life heal, and the Magician’s worry increased threefold.

 

Kaito wishes, for once, that Shinichi would stop worrying and thinking and taking responsibility for others, but for once, just once, for himself, and realise how much he’s hauling on his back, and how much his body is taking the toll.

Kaito just wants to tell him.

 

**‘I love you.’**

 

_I can’t seem to be able to say them even now…_

But he can’t. And it tears him apart from the inside, how much he hates himself for not gathering up enough courage and much less say it in from of the Cleric.

 

“Shinichi’s gone! Kuroba! Snap out of it!”

 

He hates the weak part of himself.

 

-.-.-

 

_Little by little, from the world, Day after day even light and temperature begin to fade._

Heiji doesn’t have time to consider such things as ‘feelings’, when he’s fighting to survive. In this world, it is and was always ‘kill or be killed’.

Heiji never let his guard down, not when there’s people he wants to protect, even if some more reluctantly than others (Saguru). He can’t flee; he has to be the shield for everyone here.

 

He’s finally felt the anguish of his absolute defences breaking during the battle with Gin, a commander of the Black Army, at the Lake of Sand.

 

“Heiji, get back here or you’ll go out of range from Shinichi’s healing!” Kaito’s voice calls out, and Heiji grits his teeth and paces backwards. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ran sprinting desperately back.

 

“Dammit, let go of Shinichi!” She screams furiously. Heiji’s head whisks around, to find that damn Gin holding a certain dark-haired Cleric, limp and pale in his arms like a ragdoll. His sneer drips venom and triumph, and Heiji feels like punching it right off his face and into the Nine Territories.

 

“Boss’s orders,” He laughs, a harsh barking sound, “See you, _brats_.”

 

And he’s gone, just like that. Whisked into a black mist and _gone_ , both of them.

Heiji’s heart has suddenly lost a huge fragment of itself, shattered, and Heiji can’t seem to find it again.

 

_It’s come the point at which an escape from absolute zero fills the gap between us._

 

Saguru curses himself. His fury is growing rapidly, and he’s only got himself to blame for Shinichi’s abduction.

Kaito’s stilled. Heiji’s trembling, and Ran’s slumped on the ground with tears flowing freely. Saguru clenches his fists and walks up to Kaito, the one nearest to him, and slaps him, hard on the cheek, leaving a blazing red mark in it’s wake.

 

“Kudou’s gone! Kuroba, snap out of it!” He hisses, fully aware of the remaining goblin pacing towards him and he once again, curses himself, and draws a lone arrow and fires.

The arrow’s void of any determination and hope.

 

-.-.-

 

Ran’s in a daze, her hands trembling while she stirs the soup. Vivid flashes of the day echo through her mind, and she can’t seem to push them away.

Her childhood friend, her former neighbour, her first..

No. It’s not the time to think these thoughts. She smiles meekly and brings the soup ladle, full of nourishment, towards the bowel, and in her trembling, spills some of it onto the side. The brunette girl sighs, and places the ladle back into the pot.

 

And she looks back to her remaining teammates, and tries to convince herself.

 

 _Shinichi’s fine_ , she hopes with tears brimming, he’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, _I’ll be fine._

 

But she knows that these are all empty thoughts, as she brings the ladle upwards once again.

 

-.-.-

 

_You don’t hesitate when it comes to Saving the lives before your eyes._

 

Shinichi’s woken up to a hand caressing his cheek, and his eyes flicker open, to see a man with empty, soulless staring back at him with a smile. Half of his face is covered by darkness.

 

“Who are you?” He growls, pulling away.

 

“Ah ah, Shinichi, that’s disrespectful, didn’t you know?” He grins.

 

“Disrespectful?” Shinichi snaps, “Maybe you should tell me where this is and how you know my name before you start calling me _disrespectful_.”

 

“Hm,” He hums, “You’ve sure grown up, haven’t you?” He shifts slightly, and Shinichi can’t help but really, truly hope that this is all a dream, that it’s all fake.

 

Yuusaku cracks a smile, “Surprised?”

 

“..Who are you? You’re not my father,” The Cleric growls, fingers reaching for his staff, but the older man kicks it away.

 

“I see you’ve kept my wand, Shinichi,” He hums, fingers twirling through his son’s hair. Shinichi shivers, but felt his eyes drifting closer and closer together, until everything becomes a whirl of darkness, and he’s drifting away.

 

-.-.-

_I became unable to hide my out of place feelings Whirling inside of me._

 

“We need to do something, we can’t just sit here, dammit,” Heiji growls, frustration setting him on edge and ready to snap. He feels like he’s lost Kazuha all over again.

 

“What can we do?” Ran’s voice comes out as a shaky whisper, fearful and weak.

 

Everyone considers this, and it seems like a huge dead-end, a tall, blocky wall in their way. They all despise the feeling of not knowing where to go next. They’re lost.

 

“..Hey, everyone,” Kaito begins, and everyone turns their gaze to the magician, “I.. know someone that might be able to help.”

 

Saguru held doubt in his body language, “Are you sure?” He asks slowly. Kaito nods.

 

“Koizumi Akako, an.. acquaintance of mine.”

 

-.-.-

 

_We again avert each other’s gazes, our histories, ah.._

 

“Shit, Koizumi, what do you mean you won’t help?” Kaito growls, slamming a fist on the table, and the relics clatter in the wake of the shock.

 

“Kuroba-kun, I’m not saying I won’t help,” The Sage’s eyes narrow, “But you must be willing to offer something of equal importance to me.”

 

“I’ll give anything! Just help me find Shinichi!” He snarled, leaning in further.

 

“But nothing of yours in enough,” Akako snapped back, flicking through a book of tracking spells, accidentally knocking over a Chronicle in her haste. The blue-covered book falls to the ground with a thump.

 

“Please..” Kaito’s voice fades, “Help me.”

 

Akako gives a moment’s pause, before turning to the teen boy, “How much do you care for this boy?”

_Before we knew it, we were fumbling over eternity._

 

“He saved my life, he saved many others’. He’s brave, reckless, selfless, and absolutely ignorant to his own wellbeing. Shinichi’s absolutely beautiful. He means the world to me, I..” The brunette swallows thickly, and the red-haired witch listens intently, “I love him.”

 

The Great Sage lets out a breath, before raising a smooth, pale hand, “Very well, I’ve heard enough, Kuroba-kun,” She smiles at the boy with eyes blurred with tears, “Lucifer.”

 

Her crystal orb, shimmering, floats over slowly. Akako smiles towards it, “Go.”

 

Kaito’s hands take the crystal ball into his hands, and he looks up to the Sage in awe and gratefulness, “Thank you, Akako,” He whispers.

 

“No, thank you, Kaito,” Akako gives a tender look, “For showing me,” And then she’s gone.

 

-.-.-

_The hand-with-hand of ours becomes that of an unable-to-lie illness._

 

“Shinichi,” The Cleric boy stirs, and sits up, “It looks like your friends are here.”

 

Shinichi’s head snaps up with a jolt, “What?” He asked, eyes wide. Yuusaku’s frown grew, “They’re close, and you might want to see them again, don’t you?” He smiles, and Shinichi finds it way too creepy to be a true emotion.

 

“Why are you doing this?” He snarls, hands curling into fists.

 

“Why, you ask?” The man purses his lips, “Because I’m your father, aren’t I?”

 

-.-.-

 

_Poor Adam and Eve, You could say that they began from here._

 

“Ah, hello, everyone. You all must be Shinichi’s little group.”

 

Saguru’s ears prick up at the sound of the voice, “Who’s there?!”

 

He could see Kaito following him, scanning the room, along with Heiji, but Ran stilled almost immediately. She turned around stiffly with a shadow of fear across her face.

 

“..Kudou-san..” She gulped, and the man stepped out of the shadows. Saguru felt his hackles rise. This man did indeed look exactly like the Cleric. The air suddenly tensed, like it was ready to explode at any moment now.

 

“Since you took the time to come here, I’d like to see just how much you all treasure my son, that you’d give anything,” Yuusaku’s smile turned feral, “Including your lives.”

 

Ran’s breath hitched, “Y-Yuusaku-san, why are you..”

 

“Ah, Ran-san. Long time no see,” He gave an idle wave.

Saguru growled, and fired one of his more powerful arrows in a split second. To his absolute horror, the arrow was caught in mid-air and snapped into two. The silence only grew heavier.

 

“Dammit, give Shinichi back-!” Heiji roared, charging towards the man, but his attempts were futile, as he was instantly knocked back with force.

It became a full-blown war, with four-on-one, and the larger team losing rapidly. Without their cleric, their health was decreasing by a wide margin. Saguru cursed, as he was cornered by the man, the Magician and Knight bleeding on the ground, and their Soldier paralysed on the spot.

 

“Now, now, there’s no need to be afr-”

 

Saguru stood there in horror as the man crumpled to the ground in agony. Behind him, stood Shinichi, hair wild and eyes dull and open in horror. In his hands was a sword – Heiji’s.

_In this twisted romance, there’s no one left to observe._

 

“Shinichi..” He hacked, and gave a regretful smile, “So you’ll go this far.”

 

“Yes, tou-san,” Shinichi replied blandly, eyes dull, as he raised the sword once again.

 

“Shinichi-!” Saguru yelled, “Snap out of it!” He held the blue-eyed boy’s hand holding the sword, and watched as the Cleric’s eyes slowly regain light, before turning towards the blonde in half fear and half puzzlement, “S-Saguru?”

 

“Shinichi!” Kaito coughed as he pulled himself up, “Are you okay?” He stumbled over to the two.

 

“Kaito!” Blue eyes widen in horror at the state that the Magician is in, “What happened?” He began to heal the brunette, a gentle blue glow from his hands.

 

-.-.-

 

_Love begins, Flowers blossom, and the horizon starts to fade away._

 

“Hey, Shinichi?”

 

“Yeah? What is it?”

 

“Er..”

 

“Geez, just say it already.”

 

“..I love you."

 

_We speak of morals and the world proceeds to be born again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that I'm gonna need some more variety in my pairings now, since like a huge damn chunk of the drabbles feature Kaito or Heiji //hides
> 
> If you've got suggestions, please drop some down below in the reviews section.


	17. KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi – “May I speak to Kuroba-niichan, KID?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heists are there for the good news and the bad news, and KID and Kaito know all too well.

Drabble 17

KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi – “May I speak to Kuroba-niichan, KID?”

Chapter warnings: Personality switches, which may get a teeny bit confusing at times, and sad shit.

Notes: _Italics_ = thoughts/internal communication, eg. KID to Kaito.

\---

 

Nearing the end of the Saffron Jadeite heist, Kaito’s apprehension only grew.

 

 _‘KID’,_ he asks from inside the mind, voice tight but firm, ‘ _Have you seen Conan-kun?’_

“Hm, oh, tantei-kun? No, not really. Is there something you need with him or meitantei-kun?” The thief hummed, fingers skittering along the edges of the case of the targeted jewel, searching for access.

 

 _‘You’re saying things out loud again!’_ Kaito reminded sternly, _‘It’s gonna make you look like a psychopath,”_ He hissed.

 _‘Sheesh, alright, whoops, pissy today huh?’_ KID groaned, and sat down on the ground in front of the imagery of Kaito, _‘Is this anything to do with meitantei-kun?’_

Kaito went silent for a few seconds, looking at the ground, _‘Don’t give me that shit, you also know how he’s disappeared for weeks now already, don’t you?’_

KID winced, and tried to ignore the piecing shouts of one Nakamori-keibu’s orders, as he clicked open a latch and the case slid open silently. He heaved a sigh, taking the piece of stone in hand.

 

_‘Yeah, I do. Personally, I’m worried about tan-Conan-kun as well.’_

 

_Shff._

 

KID’s ears perk up, “Who’s there?” He hummed, but the voice was stringed with defensiveness. His deep indigo eyes catch on a red bowtie, purple in the darkness, and an innocent child façade.

“Ah, tantei-kun,” KID smiled tenderly, “So you’ve finally shown up, did something happen?” He squatted down to the child’s height and ruffled his hair, which caused his hand to be swatted away. Conan heaved a breath and the mischievous glint in his eyes dimmed.

 

“Ne, ne, KID, Shinichi wants to talk, so can you ask Kuroba-niichan out to listen?” He chirped. KID frowned, biting his lips. Something was off about his favourite small detective today, with the body language and tone, but in his mind, he motioned to Kaito anyway.

Confidant, indigo eyes flickered to cerulean, violet-speckled blue, and the body’s face instantly shifted into a tense, worried attitude, “What happened, Shinichi?”

 

“It’s about the cure,” Conan’s, no, Shinichi’s deep, knowing voice stated, and he shuffled on his feet. Kaito raised a stiff eyebrow; this conversation is going to take a bad turn.

 

“I-What.. about it?”

 

Shinichi ran a hand through his hair, and took off his glasses, and Kaito could see the dark eyebags, and the hauntings in his eyes. Shinichi’s, not Conan’s.

 

 _‘This isn’t good,’_ KID hummed in his head, but his eyes were hard and serious.

 

“There..” The formerly teenage detective bit his lip, “There won’t be a cure for.. this,” He gestured to his small body, and laughed quietly, “You won’t be able to see the real me again,” His laughter grew hoarse. Kaito’s frown grew deeper as he let the words sink in and held the hysterical boy’s shoulders in an attempt to calm him, before he pulled Shinichi into a hug. Shinichi pulled at the fabric of the cape as he fell into the white-clad boy’s shoulder, “Haibara’s giving up. If I continue taking any types of antidotes, my spine will be crushed under the pressure and the ventricles and arteries of my heart will collapse. She’s happy in this life, she’s happy with starting over again,” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m not.”

 

“Shini-”

 

“Whoops, sorry, Kuroba-niichan, Shinichi-niichan needs some time,” Conan strained a grin, as be flipped open his tranquilizer watch and aimed it at his neck, before slumping into the magician’s arms.

 

 _‘Huh?’_ KID remarked.

 

“KID’s on the roof! Get him, and seal off the exits!” Nakamori’s famed roar echoed through the building, and Kaito shivered. ‘KID,’ He asked, ‘Can you handle this?’

 

‘Sure, got it,’ The phantom thief grinned, before Kaito felt himself numbing and KID taking over.

 

-.-.-

 

Kaito sighed, as he propped his arms on his knees to support his head, and stared at the miniscule detective dozing on the sofa. Thoughts ran wild in his head, and KID was silent as well.

The magician picked at his nails. He’d always imagined that some day Shinichi would get a cure, just like that, take down the Organization, probably losing a few lives, and they’ll be back as close to normal as they’ll probably get.

KID, in his head, sternly reminds him that that’s just incredibly simplistic thinking. Kaito can’t help but admit he’s right.

 

“Ngh..” The boy groaned and Kaito was by his side in an instant, scanning over him for anything off or telling if it was Shinichi or Conan.

 

 _‘It’s Shinichi,’_ KID whistled, _‘Tantei-kun normally sleeps with his head tilted to the right, whereas meitantei-kun sleeps on his left.’_ Kaito snorted in exasperation, _‘Geez, you observant prick.’_

KID shrugged, _‘Can’t help it, I’m supposed to be a master thief, aren’t I?’_

 

“Shinichi?” Kaito whispered, gently nudging the boy, and he stirred slightly, mouth open, and breathing smooth. Kaito gently twirled a lock of his hair absentmindedly.

“Kaito,” Shinichi murmured, eyes half open and glasses sliding off, “Sorry.”

 

“It’s all fine,” The taller brunette smiled, “As long as you’re still here, I don’t really care if you’re in Conan’s body or your own. You’re still Shinichi.”

The not-child cracked a smile, “Ah, thanks, I could say the same to you, even if KID’s a huge ass sometimes, metaphorically,” He snickered, and KID gasped in horror behind his monocle. Kaito chose to ignore him.

 

“Ah, okay..” Kaito wasn’t sure how to respond. The blue-eyed boy was probably quoting Conan, actually, “So how do you feel?” The magician hummed.

 

“Pretty shit, never thought Conan would put us both to sleep,” The detective grumbled, before giving a yawn, “I’ll probably take a rest, Conan says he wants to see KID.”

Kaito nodded, and he didn’t even have to tell his thieving counterpart before he drifted into darkness again, sitting back to watch through a phantom thief’s point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got pretty lazy at the end forgive me please //cries


	18. General – “505 ways to break your sanity with Mahjong.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi should have pinched himself the moment Kaito beamed and exclaimed, "Strip Mahjong!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this chapter bears a resemblance to Drabble 8.

Drabble 18

General – “505 ways to break your sanity with Mahjong.”

Chapter warnings: Crack and the Boys being huge dorks.

\---

 

“Alright so here’s the deal,” Kaito announced triumphantly, “To determine who gets Aoko’s last cookie, we’re gonna have a game of, wait for it..”

 

“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” Saguru deadpanned, glaring at his brunette classmate.

 

“Strip Mahjong!” Kaito beamed like a lightbulb.

 

“…”

 

“The fuck?” Heiji choked violently on his rice ball, and almost ran into a telephone pole face first while Shinichi yelped and tripped on his shoelaces, and stumbled into Saguru, who then fell into a rose bush nearby.

Kaito looked on with an endless amount of hilarity in his eyes.

 

“Kuroba, _what_ the _absolute_ hell-!?” The half-brit exploded, trying to untangle himself from the thorns and a certain Detective of the East, while the western counterpart almost got ran over by a car on the other side of the sidewalk.

 

“So here’s the rules, it goes by normal Mahjong game rules and regulations, only-” Kaito started, but was cut off mid-sentence by his seething classmate.

“Who would be knowledgeable of the rules of such an obscure game?” He growled, dusting himself off, as he pulled Shinichi up. Kaito shot back a glare of his own, “Please do let me finish,” He cleared his throat, “So as I was saying, normal Mahjong rules, yadidadida, but,” His eyes glinted as he turned to his three unfortunate victims, “If you lose, you gotta take off an article of clothing, and changing your clothing from what you’re wearing now.”

 

“Wha- Hey! You’ve got a hoodie and cap and everything, Kuroba!” Heiji fumed, “Ya planned this, didn’t you?” The magician gave a playful wink in return, “Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll tell you what, if you guys manage to get me to strip off all this, I’ll treat you all to hot springs.”

 

Heiji stared, before smirking, “Deal.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Hey, Kaito,” Shinichi asked flatly, “How do you even keep a Mahjong set in your sleeve?”

 

“Magicians never reveal their secrets, you should know that already,” The magician in question laughed, stacking up the Mahjong blocks by twos in a row of eighteen at a seemingly speed of light.

Heiji stared at the patterned backing of the blocks, not entirely sure what to do. Saguru, sitting on his left, was scrolling through a ‘Mahjong Rules for Dummies’ guide online with a sour look on his face.

 

“Alrightio, we’re done,” Kaito sat back into his seat, and let the other three admire his perfectly assembled blocks, and he grinned, “So, who wants to roll first?” He asked, juggling two dice. “No one?” He hummed, “Okay, I’ll go then,” He let the dice fall onto the table.

“You show-off,” The blonde detective sighed, staring at the double sixes.

 

“Show-off is my middle name, Hakuba Stick-Up-The-Ass Saguru,” Kaito grinned in response.

 

“That’s a horrifying mental image, Kaito,” Shinichi winced, gesturing a ‘time out’ with his hands. Heiji looked like he’s likely to be sent to the nearest hospital for a lack of oxygen in the next half hour if you take into account of the wheezing and choked laughter.

 

-.-.-

 

 _Things were okay,_ Heiji supposed, up until the Osakan himself lost the first game to his Eastern counterpart and that was when he decided he wanted to edit his earlier mental statement.

For the next three rounds, Saguru had to take off his watch, socks and shirt respectively, and sat there emitting rays of wrath. Shinichi lost the next, taking off his own tranquiliser watch. Heiji followed with losing his cap. Through some miraculous miracle, Kaito admitted defeat on their seventh round.

It wasn’t long before Saguru felt a chill creeping up his spine.

 

“Kuroba, as much as I am mortifyingly seated here half-naked, are you a kind enough soul to close the windows?” He growled, staring at his deck of Thousands and Winds. Heiji snickered behind his hand, and Shinichi politely looked away, with a slight blush he’d been sporting through the afternoon.

 

“Nope, you’re going to learn to be a man the hard way, Sagu-chan~” Kaito sang with glee as he rubbed his hands together, “Isn’t that right, Shin-chan?”

“Eh?” The ocean-eyed boy cocked his head in question, and Heiji swears that’s even cuter than that one time Yukiko showed his a photo of her son in a dolly dress.

 

“Dear Lord, help me,” Saguru muttered.

 

-.-.-

 

“Where were the goddamn five sticks when you need ‘em?” Heiji screeched, throwing his hands up, as he tried to shove the inescapable fate of taking off his pants. _His pants._

 

“I have them, Hattori,” The cowlicked boy of the group held up the piece, and Heiji slumped back down with exasperation, and slid a hand down his face. Kaito knocked down his pieces and began to shuffle them, slightly proud of the fact that he’s won 14/18 games so far.

 

“So, I take it we’re going to need a break?” The magician looked up to the clock and saw that it was almost dinner-time. “Anyone up for ramen?” He got up and walked towards the door of the Detective of the East’s room, intent on the kitchen.

 

“I bet Hattori-kun’s glad for anything as long as he’s ceased playing this ridiculous game.” The Osakan in question slumped even deeper into his seat, exhausted, “Beef flavour is fine fer me.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Shin-chan~” Kaito’s smile could crack a hundred and two mirrors. At once. “Please?”

Shinichi’s blush only grew in hue and size, “No!” He replied almost immediately, “I am not wearing that!”

 

Saguru wanted to slap his idiot of a classmate when he saw the damn piece of – _ugh_ – hold up a piece of black fabric (?), along with bunny ears and a cotton tail. The half-brit swears that he sees red right now. Such was the fate of coming into a 10 meter- _scrap that_ , 100 meter radius of one Kuroba Kaito.

Well, Shinichi only had himself to blame for a chain of 4 losses, and he’s faced with a mortal emergency.

 

“No, dammit, Kaito, you son of a-”

 

Aa-nd, it’s the smoke, Saguru coughs, it’s _always_ the pink smoke. He cracks open his eyelids and finds a gaping Osakan, a crying Ekodan (Tears of laughter, of course), and.

 

_Nope._

Hallucinations seem pretty real these days, don’t they?

 

“So, the sky’s pretty blue today, isn’t it?” He thinks out loud, and is greeted by silence, so he stares out the window, to the empty street, “And, oh, look, that’s Mouri-san, isn’t it..?”

 

“…”

 

Shinichi learns to breathe again first, “Hakuba-kun, could you please rewind the last few seconds?” He asks monotonously. Heiji blinks. Once. Twice.

 

“Oh, look, that’s Mou-”

 

“Holy fucking shit and everything that isn’t shit!” Shinichi screams, “Kaito, you- I swear to god, change me back! Ran’s here!” He gestures wildly to his attire of a playboy costume. The magician in question is silent almost immediately, before he’s in the middle of pulling himself up and is interrupted by an exasperated voice, “Mou, Shinichi! Are you in here?”

The door creaks open. Saguru’s mind blanks, as he sits on the chair buck naked from the waist up, and really, the only one thing that decides to float into his mind is one of Heiji’s quotes, apparently phrased as, “I hope this is a dream or I’m screwin’ myself to the moon and back.”

 

“Shinichi..?” Mouri Ran peeks a head around the door in curiosity and absolute normalcy. Even Kaito’s ass-struck silent. The temperature of the room drops by twelve and a half degrees.

 

“..I take it this is one of the moments where I’m supposed to say ‘it’s not what it looks like?’” Shinichi’s grin was wobbly and weak.

 


	19. Yuusaku/Shinichi – “Economy class was full so I had to sit on his lap.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He swears to hell and heaven and whatever is in between that plane trips were fun for a period of his life.  
> Just not this period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Aredriseth.
> 
> And for the purpose of this story, I’m just going to throw the take-off and landing procedures for airlines and seatbelt regulations and even foot pain for long durations of standing out of the window, because I’m such a lazy ass and I can’t be bothered to find a way around the whole thing and I’ve got two assignments due.

Drabble 19

Yuusaku/Shinichi – “Economy class was full so I had to sit on his lap.”

Chapter warnings: Implied incest and long plane trips galore.

\---

 

“Only sixteen hours, she says,” The passengers’ chatter and the flurry of colours and patterns on luggage fly by, and announcements are made over the speakers, “ _Sixteen hours_ , mum says.”

 

Kudou Shinichi was not, never was, and never will be a fan of plane trips. Especially the damn long ones from Tokyo to Los Angeles (Where her mother currently was) which slave off around sixteen hours of your life and enough to make you launch into nail-ripping, manic hysterics mode if you were a teeny bit paranoid and constantly on the look out for bombs, cockpit murders, plane hijackers, a faulty wing engine, _Kaitou KID_ , the occasional occupied restroo-

“Shinichi, are you okay?” Yuusaku asks with worry evident, as he shifts in his seat, listening intently on the words from the intercom, before frowning, “Come on, it’s our flight boarding next.”

 

“Ah, okay,” Shinichi slowly picked himself up. He cursed his legs and the pins and needles seeping in as he stood up and stretched.

 

The intercom buzzed to life, “Flight number AP4869 please proceed to gate 16 for immediate boarding, thank you. I repeat, flight number AP4869, please – _oh my gosh_ , is that Kudou Yuusaku and his son?!”

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi wanted to straight out rip open the emergency door and jump out and plummet to his death.

Actually, that was a teeny bit extreme. Let’s rephrase that one.

Shinichi just wanted a legit empty seat where he could move into and contently buckle his seatbelt and probably fall asleep in an awkward position and no one would care for the next three-quarters of a day and wake up with a dry mouth and emtreme jet lag and be thankful for all the more unpleasant options he could have encountered but hadn’t – something he doesn’t normally do on a plane trip.

 

_But no._

 

Because Shinichi doesn’t believe in fate, so it comes to hate him back too. And tagging along, was karma. And these two jerks of life just have to come and have the economy class lose around six seats from flimsy seat-belt errors in mid-flight so here he is, sitting on his _father’s lap._

 

Couldn’t teleportation really come any sooner? Worldwide transportation in a mere millisecond, and none of this shenanigans and awkward touchy-feely situations where Shinichi seems to notice that his dad doesn’t _mind in the least._

 

Something from the deep, dark depths of the back of his mind, where his cringy, self-exploring ‘bathtub moments’ as Conan and mental images (Courtesy of Kazuha) of Heiji dressed as Super Saiyan with a disturbing suntan gone haywire and Haibara and her Taylor Swift web searches on Shinichi’s computer (He swears she does that to piss her off) lie, a lone voice drifts in, whispering ‘This isn’t so bad, he smells nice and his leg’s pretty comfortable-”

 

First chance he gets, he’s heading straight for the bathroom in their hotel in LA and bleaching his mind. Preferably quite literally.

 

The almost-silent clicking of sneaky phones from fangirls and possible fanboys going off from the side is not doing much good for Shinichi’s mental health right now.

 

-.-.-

 

“Shinichi, do you want to watch a movie?” Yuusaku asked, stifling a yawn and taking in the poor, poor souls standing up or leaning against the seat arm-rests during the flight. His eyes then turned to the monitor, where it displays ‘Frozen’, ‘Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs’, and even ‘Big Hero 6’. He’s clearly in the wrong section for ‘Sherlock’, then.

Damn these remote thingymajigs and their frustrating tangleable cords connected to seat in front of them.

 

But that aside, Shinichi seems to have fallen asleep.

 

Yuusaku laughs quietly, as he turns the screen off and settles back into the backrest, letting his son’s head fall into his chest as he slowly dozed off into a sweet oblivion as well. His vision gradually transcends into black, and the lights dim and the world fades. Just for a little while. Just a little.

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi woke up to the sound of chattering flight attendants. And camera clicks. Especially the camera clicks.

 

“They look so cute together!”

“Aw, I’m sending these pictures to my mother..”

“Who knew the world famous author had such a soft spot for his son?”

“You know, Kudou Yuusaku’s son looks feminine enough to even replace his mother as a wife, don’t you-”

 

By then, Shinichi’s heard _enough_ , and his eyelids snap open in a millisecond, and he sits himself upright with utter mortification and a scarlet face. Or tried to sit up.

Head, meet in-flight entertainment screen. Hope you get along.

They didn’t, and Shinichi groaned and rubbed his forehead and glared sourly at the piece of plastic, before turning to the flight attendants, who were all red in the face and scuttling to look normal (Read: almost knocking over a bottle of juice and juggling their cellphones in a frenzy to put them in their pockets).

 

“E-er, hello, Kudou-san, would you like any-”

 

“Black coffee,” He pinched the ridge of his nose, “Actually, blacker than black, please, wait, no cancel that, I just need an aspirin. Aspirin would do me so much good right now.”

 

-.-.-

 

“Shin-chan, Yuu-chan! How was your flight~?” Kudou Yukiko ensnared her darling son in a smothering wooing-mother hug- _glomp._ Shinichi didn’t answer. Yuusaku didn’t either. Instead, they both trudged along, towing their luggage with bags under their eyes and a lingering of a blush in the air.

Which is why they didn’t even notice the other two human beings following them along from the back, before the two figures, one taller than the other.

 

“Heyo, Shinichi-kun!” The detective in question paused and slowly turned around to meet the source of the voice.

“Sera-san?” His tone was a mix of curiosity and ‘huh?’ (He had seen too much shit for surprise anymore).

 

“Yep.” Masumi shot a grin, “That’s me. Shuu-nii and I caught the same flight as you and your dad, but wow, even in the business class we could hear some pretty extreme fangirl screams. Is that related to you two by any chance?” Shuuichi’s eyes twinkled with bemusement while Masumi’s entire tone of voice screamed rhetorical question.

 

Shinichi looked them once over, then calmly reached into his bag, opened the box of aspirins and downed the rest all in one gulp.


	20. Kaito/Shinichi – “Tears of blood.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's my dearest of them all?

Drabble 20

Kaito/Shinichi – “Tears of blood.”

Chapter warnings: Nothing too major, unless you count swearing, but there’s a bit of that in all of my drabbles, isn’t there? //laughes

Notes: Set in a royalty AU.

\---

 

Some people may call Kuroba Kaito a bit of an eccentric. Or maybe slightly too easygoing, or too immature to be for a proper prince. The list varies and wanders to different areas with each person’s opinions and thoughts and personal tastes. Kaito doesn’t mind, he never has. After all, opinions were an easily changeable thing, like human feelings and the hundreds of thousands of other essences of their kind.

The royal Kuroba family has travelled down millennia’s of generations, carrying down unique royal blood through each offspring. Their rule seemed to be strict towards neighbouring countries and distant embassies, and maybe it is, but in all honesty, Kaito’s family was understanding and willing to listen to pleas and critiques.

 

Kaito’s turning eighteen in a few months, and when he does, he’s ready to rule, and his mother, Chikage’s position as Queen will be replaced.

It could be called a great window of opportunity and power and fame and the million of other things any normal being could wish to obtain.

However, it could also be viewed as a burden, a sad path of life, chained to a strict lifestyle and suffocating in the various beliefs and harsh ways of upbringing.

Humans were naïve creatures, only seeing what they want to see, and only doing what they deem necessary.

 

But as Kaito gently closes the ivory door to his grand room, all of the matters and worries from the outside world fades into a mass of blur, and as he paces across the room, footsteps light and familiar, his sense of belonging returns, and when he reaches out one of his hands to longingly caress the surface of the grand, gleaming mirror implanted on his wall, it’s only him.

Him and the boy in his mirror.

 

_“Shinichi, I’m back.”_

 

The mirror’s spectrum and refractions distort for a split second, before a smooth, soft imagery forms upon it’s crisp, clear face, and a lone boy appears, slightly transparent, like a frosted, fragile marble held up to a light, and an untouchable grace and a translucent hand raises up to an imaginary wall, and it passes through fluidly, as like the mirror itself was a liquid, was nothing but a slight hindrance. His pale lips twitch upwards in welcoming as he approaches the young prince.

 

_“Welcome back, Kaito.”_

 

-.-.-

 

He’d found the spirit five years ago, in the midst of a forest, a full, intact mirror laid. Kaito, bursting with curiosity even at the age of twelve, scampered over to it, and crouched down on the ground next to it.

No scratch, no dents, no sign of any wear or tear. He frowned, normal people wouldn’t just throw something as expensive-looking as this, and it even looked like it was placed down gently on the grass. This forest was like his playground, his home since childhood, and he knew every nook and cranny of it, and it wouldn’t make sense if someone had to leave something as full-on as a mirror here.

 

 _Ah_ , he remembered, _there was an incident around this part of the forest a few weeks ago, something about a riot_. He shuddered, but continued inspecting the antique object. There was a distinct lack of mirrors in the palace, so it couldn’t hurt to touch it a bit..

 

It had _tingled_ , when he made contact with the surface of the pane, like a slight static shock, yet it caused his entire being to shiver. He drew back, slightly breathless as something rippled on its reflective surface.

 _This isn’t normal_ , he bit his lip, _I should run._

He couldn’t move. It was just the trees and the grasses and the piece of delicate decoration and _him_. Nothing else.

 

And the boy was staring back at him, almost a mirror reflection. Kaito blinked, not comprehending as well as usual. He tried to reason that this was probably a hallucination or vision or mirage or _something_ real. His hand was still ghosting in the air, and he realised that it was drifting in the area where the other boy was supposed to be.

Kaito panicked and scooted backwards into the leaf litter. The other boy looked just as surprised as he was, and looked at himself with awe. When Kaito took a closer look, he realised that the cowlicked boy, the same age as him, was actually slightly transparent, and it wasn’t just a simple trick of light.

He had an enchanting air around him, leaving the young prince slightly breathless, and a bit dazed too.

 

It was after a few minutes that both of them could find the words to say again.

 

“U-um, what’s your name?”

“What year is this..?”

 

Kaito blinked. That wasn’t what he expected someone to say on a first meeting.

“1846, why?”

 

The other’s eyes snapped up in relief, cerulean eyes relaxing, and the tiny aqua specks in the iris danced – Kaito found these vivid orbs with solid, glimmering colour fascinating. “Thank goodness.”

 

Wind rustled the leaves, as the blue-eyed boy lifted his head up just a bit more, and smiled, some unfamiliarity normally directed to strangers, some remorse, mostly a swirl of strain to cover something deep inside the soul.

 

“Shinichi, Kudou Shinichi, and you’re the royal prince..?”

 

-.-.-

 

It was one of the days where something felt.. wrong. Wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

 

And it paved way for a bottomless pit to sink into Kaito’s stomach like forever drifting sediment, and the frustration pent up to build into worry, and paranoia.

It began in the morning; he woke up early, still and tangled up in the bedsheets. It was just like a _snap_ , and he found himself staring at the wall. The sun wasn’t even up, yet he pushed himself upwards and sat on the edge of the mattress.

 

Shinichi appeared again, in the mirror, and not drifting out like a ghost at this time of day, staying a picture in the panes, obviously sensing the tenseness in the other’s shoulders and posture. Indigo eyes were drifting off and unfocused.

 

“Kaito? Is everything alright?” The blue-eyed boy whispered, stifling a yawn.

 

The prince turned his head to his roommate, and shook his head with a sliver of uncertainty. “Everything’s fine, it’s just that..” Something didn’t feel right in the air, and both of them felt it, “..No, nothing, I’m fine,” But he knew that Shinichi could see he wasn’t.

 

“Okay,” Shinichi sounded a bit unsure, but the he let it slide, as he faded again.

 

-.-.-

 

“Ah, Kaito, Toichi’s anniversary is coming up, we should start making plans,” Chikage suddenly stated during lunchtime, while handling a piece of deer rump. Her son looked up, in the midst of chewing, and sent a confirming look. Chikage smiled in return, a small, nostalgic one, in memory of her husband and a third of her life.

Sometimes, the remaining two Kurobas still can’t adjust to the fact of Toichi simply not being there. It’s even been five years. Five excruciating years of learning to live and adjust again. Especially when the images of the king being assassinated – burnt to death – right in front of their eyes was always lurking, always haunting in the shadows.

 

“I miss him,” Chikage continued, eyes filled with regret, “But of course, since we’re royalty, we should have our backs against the wall most of the time, right Kaito?”

 

The indigo-eyed boy knew this was his mother’s indirect way of warning her son of the dangers and horrors of their world. Kaito, though, already knew too well, as he eyes one of the wilting blue roses in the vase at the centre of the table.

 

The indigo one looks like it’ll wilt next.

 

“Your majesty.”

Chikage looked up, to the panting messenger in the doorway, “What is it?”

“One of the rulers of the outsider monarchs wishes for me to pass a word on to you,” The girl panted, face pale and sweat beading around her forehead and neck. Kaito’s eyes grey hard. Chikage stilled, before putting down her cutlery.

 

“Continue.”

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi can’t help, but sometimes feel just a tiny bit trapped, a bug in a large glass container, able to wander around, but not entirely _free_.

 

Being a spirit ensnared in a mirror wasn’t how most people would like to spend their eternity, but he wasn’t always like this though, and he was once able to walk on free two legs, h _uman legs_ , with a boisterous smile and a bit of a snarky sense of humour.

 

 _That was years ago_ , he hummed, no point in growing _nostalgic about it now._

He still wishes he could forget. Shinichi’s life wasn’t a happy, sappy storybook in general, being an aristocrat and all; his daily routines always had at least a chunk of the day dedicated to ‘avoid getting murdered, brutally or discretely’.

He was alive in a chaotic era, where warfare was plentiful and the country’s current king had disappeared suddenly. Children with connections with the royal family were in high tide and high risk.

 

His parents were discreet, with a stiff, faux hide draped over secrets and hidden plans. Kudou Yuusaku and Yukiko were much respected, but they knew something everyone else didn’t – it showed in their eyes, and they weren’t going to announce it anytime soon.

Shinichi wasn’t allowed outside for long periods of time, and when he was, he was always by the sides of his parents, carefully tracing his every step.

 

_Shinichi, only seven years old, stood around the corner to his father’s office, ars straining to pick up each and every word. But as he did so, he was only more and more confused._

_“And so we need to find somewhere to let Shinichi live in secret.”_

_“Yes, so we don’t let Pandora fall into their hands. We can’t.”_

_Shinichi decided that he shouldn’t pry on the conversation anymore, and shuffled slowly back to his room, trying to put together the new thoughts._

 

As the years wore by roughly, with rebellion activities rising within the kingdom and nearby countries discovering their opportunities for conquest, Shinichi’s best friend and the son of a commander, Hattori Heiji, an optimistic and enthusiastic boy the same age as the aristocrat, stubbornly offered the boy to live with them, where every day was more peaceful and less filled with a back to the wall, and every moment he could _live_ again.

 

Yuusaku and Yukiko looked back at their son one last time, before setting out into the dawn, air still and stifling, as they don’t intend to return.

Days later, they were assassinated in the dead of the night, still in the carriage towed along by the pristine white horses, a snipe to the hearts.

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi looks backwards, from standing in the middle of the nothingness he’s come to call home, eyes dry, and tries to discard the brutal, unforgiving images of the rebels storming the house, stabbing Heizo-san, choking Shizuka-san, fleeing out into the woods with Heiji, where shrubs scratch at his skin and the air is crusty with dry and drying blood, and his best friend’s emerald green eyes filled with hate and choked desperation, and irises cloudy with the will to live and to fight.

 

Shinichi realises how _weak_ he truly was at that moment.

 

And how he takes things for granted, _always,_ as he scrambles for his own sake as Heiji takes painful two arrows in the back for him, collapsing onto the ground with a dull thud and breath heavy, the _blood_ – so sacred and yet so devastating – seeping through his clothes. The taste and smell and sight of putrid, pungent smoke, fire, blaze was beyond devastating, and he couldn’t even comprehend the hoarse screams and cracked sobs which he only recognised as his own, and Shinichi’s tears run down silently in large drops – and is that _blood_ _or tears_ on his hands –

 

_“Shinichi.”_

 

The spirit stills, before turning his attention to Kaito, his reason for existing now, the one who rescued him. He allows himself to appear in front of the mirror and gives a small, idle wave. The prince’s eyes were hard and serious, as he stated, “Country-wide emergency. We’re going to war.”

 

-.-.-

 

 _This must be the major climactic point in my life right now, what the hell,_ Kaito grits through clenched teeth. Commanders and soldiers are everywhere, and scouts on the watch, as he straps on his own armour, feeling the density and coolness of the metal. He could spot Hakuba Saguru, one of the major tacticians, striding alongside Nakamori Aoko and Mouri Ran, two commanders for the attack-wise troops, both high in status.

They were planning to ambush the opposition first, to reduce casualties on both sides and to suppress enemy troops faster.

Sera Masumi, the Lieutenant Colonel, tapped Kaito on the shoulder, and her face was void of any of the normal easygoing attitude that was normally situated in the curve of her eyebrows or the wideness of her grin.

“Highness, troops are stationed for further orders.”

Kaito drew in a long breath.

 

“Division 15, be ready for potential scouts and spies and be on full awareness. Division 18, sector 2, take the lead, we’re setting out.”

 

-.-.-

 

There was the jagged scent of iron everywhere, coating everything, red and black.

“They knew we were coming,” Kyogoku Makoto hissed, wiping the blood from his mouth as he gripped his lance.

“Sneaky bastards,” Masumi sneered.

 

“Highness!” A distressed looking relay messenger rushed over, hands on knees and panting as his eyes showed distress. Kaito raised an eyebrow, silently praying nothing happened back at the palace. His hopes went unanswered.

 

“Th-the palace is burni-”

 

Kaito cursed, flipped onto his horse and rode off as fast as he possibly could, because if he doesn’t, he’ll very surely be regretting it, leaving his troops and commanders and colonels behind in the wake of the dust.

 

-.-.-

 

“K-Kaito!” Chikage stuttered, stumbling over to her dear son like the world was out to get her, “The palace is burning..!” Kaito’s heart twisted and wrenched, but kept the straightest face he could hold.

 

“I’m going,” He gritted, and the queen looked up in horror, “Kaito, you’re not-”

 

“ _I am_ ,” His voice was steely cold and dead serious, “I’ll be back, get to safety.”

 

“Wait-”

 

He was already gone, rushing towards the scattered ruins and the hungry flames licking at the once-glorious palace. Chikage could only pray and weep for protection and safety.

 

-.-.-

 

 _Shinichi,_ the young prince gritted, _where are you?_

 

The smoke was thick and stubborn, as he hacked and made his way in further, scanning each and every room for identification of the glinting piece of glass which held his spark and his truth and life.

He threw open a door which was still seemingly untouched (He, in haste, doesn’t bother identifying who’s room it was), and in the midst, he found the familiar figure idly standing in the middle of the room, facing away from Kaito, unmoving.

 

“Shinichi..?” The words left Kaito’s mouth before he even realised it.

 

“Kaito?” Shinichi’s words were strained and surprised, as he turned around, and Kaito could see his skin turn more and more alabaster by the second. His breath caught in his throat as he paced over to the spirit boy. Shinichi’s eyes widened in panic as he screamed, “No, stay away!”

 

“Wha- mmph!” Kaito felt a rough hand clamp his mouth as he saw Shinichi watch with haunted eyes. In the distance, the flames grew, crackling and blazing.

 

“Heh, who would’ve thought the prince would willing come back for his magical mirror?” A rough voice laughed. Kaito’s eyes narrowed, he recognised that voice. Snake was one of the people who declared war onto them, in hope of domination and rule, his country being seen as weak or too insufficient.

“Let go of Kaito, you bastard,” Shinichi spat, but he knew he was unable to do anything as long as he was tied to the mirror. Kaito fought his captor but it only resulted in him being gripped tighter. He cursed his inability to do _anything_.

 

“Your damn country’s the reason we’re looked down on,” The moustached man bristled, “So we’re gonna show you just who you dared to underestimate,” A sound of a gun cocked near his head, and a bead of cold sweat dripped down his face. “ _Don’t_ ,” Kaito growled.

 

“So I’m going to show you who’s boss, and-” Snake didn’t find the opportunity to finish his sentence before Kaito twisted the man’s jaw and hauled his body weight onto himself and flipped him over in one fluid movement.

“You brat,” He cussed, and grabbed his gun again, and pointed it to the panting prince.

 

_“Stop.”_

 

Both heads turned to Shinichi, who was slightly trembling, but his voice was solid. “Please, stop..”

 

“You won’t be able to do anything,” Snake cackled, a rough, scratchy howl which sounds like someone sandpapered his throat. Kaito felt his hackles rise, and he lunged at the man, tackling his at the waist, dragging him down, as he tried his best to stay out of the way of the gun waving dangerously all over the place.

He found that being grabbed by the hair and having a gun next to the temples isn’t a particularly pleasant experience, and he sure wouldn’t be telling his children or grandchildren about the experience lest they try it for themselves, that is, if he’s alive for more that two minutes now at most.

 

“Say goodbye to your friend, you shitty prince.”

 

And something inside Shinichi snapped, full on and very apparent, as he stormed over and slapped the gun straight out of Snake’s hand, growling and tears brimming, as he spat, “You never speak of Kaito like that,” His eyes glazed over with anguish and hate and the tiny little emotions of retaliation, _“Never.”_

 

And he let the tears flow, down and down, until they dropped lazily off his chin, falling and falling, and Kaito couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe the scarlet leaking down Shinichi’s face, the deep, vermillion-crimson colour of fresh _blood_.

 

Snake laughed, a victorious, slightly crazed laugh that pieced the air like a hammer striking hot metal.

“It’s here!” He roared, “This is Pandora!” And he lunged, a crazed smile spreading over his face. Kaito came right after him, intent on stopping his movement, and Snake was less that pleased. “Don’t fucking get in my way! I’m taking the immortality! I’m taking Pandora!” Kaito made a noise of pain as he was elbowed in the ribs harshly.

 

Shinichi watched in horror, and saw that Kaito’s path wasn’t ending well, so he could do the only thing he could for Kaito, for himself, even.

 

So he snatched the gun off the ground, turned with brows furrowed towards the large mirror on the wall, and fired.

 

The gunfire was like a small explosion, setting off at the speed of a heartbeat, and the bullet itself with implanted in the glass, cracks spreading like a wildfire, and the reflections became broken as the pieced shattered onto the ground, with everyone unmoving and tense.

 

“What-”

 

“Go to hell,” Shinichi screamed as he cocked his gun towards Snake and fires a shot for the second time of that day. The bullet was lodged straight in the middle of the skull, and the crazed man slumped down, lifeless and nothing more than a corpse.

 

“Shinichi..?” Kaito murmured, eyes still wide, and watched as Shinichi shivered in horror and dropped the gun, looking down at his hands and at himself. His pale, alabaster skin was regaining colour as the mirror continued to crumble, slowly, and his eyes a more deep, ocean blue than ever. The remaining tears on his face faded into transparency, losing the gentle, crimson glow.

 

“K-Kaito..” He whispered, “I could.. I could feel the gun..”

 

The prince was next to him in a second, indigo eyes wide in wonder, as he cups a hand on the other boy’s cheek, like he has many times with the mirror instead of him, and feels the heat and feels the velvet of his skin, reassuring himself that it’s no longer a ghost. Shinichi looked just as painfully joyful as he was.

 

And then the door burnt down, unable to withstand the heat any longer, spreading over the ground, and towards the two boys at the far end of the room. Kaito furrowed his brows, and tugged Shinichi towards the window, where he smashed his elbow into it, and jumped, down and down.

 

“K-Kaito?”

 

Kaito turned around, instinctively stepping in front of Shinichi in a defensive position.

 

“..Aoko?” The prince stared at his childhood friend, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the front lines?”

 

The messy-haired girl looked up with wide, concerned eyes, “I left the troops to Ran, and followed you here, but I saw you go into the palace and- shit, Kaito we need to get out, the buildings aren’t holding for much longer!” Aoko gritted, dodging a piece of flying wood ( _The fire must’ve found it’s way to the gas storages_ , she thought heatedly), “Who’s that behind you? I’ve never seen him before,” She hollered over explosions.

 

“Introductions later, we need to save our asses first-!”

 

-.-.-

 

“We’re alive.. we’re alive,” Aoko panted, as they stopped in the midst of a clearing in the forest, wiping sweat from her forehead. She gave a solemn nod as Chikage rushed over to check his son over for injuries. Shinichi stood a bit further away, eyes glancing around for any sign of danger. He still couldn’t believe that his hands were warm and that tree bark was so rough. It was _years_ since he felt anything like this.

 

Kaito walked over with a silly grin on his face, followed by a curious Chikage, and Aoko on alert in case he tried to attack or anything of the sort.

 

“Aoko, mother, this here is..” He gave a small laugh, twinkling and ringing like a small bell, “Actually, I should show you guys instead,” And with that, he leant in, and Shinichi felt his lips being pressed upon softly, as he closed his eyes. Chikage could not be more delighted as she clapped her hands, and Aoko was a bit tight-lipped and stunned to the spot. The guards nearby flushed a little, and some looked away.

Shinichi could never be more content and happy with his life.

 

In the distance, the castle gave a faraway boom, signalling the demise of the area, but no one seemed to care in that moment.


	21. Heiji/Shinichi – “-Incomprehendable dark art chanting-”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ran glances over her shoulder with a slight laugh while flipping through the booklet of items needed for the procedure. “Er, we still need a pint of pork fried rice, issue #212 of the Fantastic Four..” She trails off, slightly dumbfounded, “And half a cup of rabbit poop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by CrystalHopeDragon.

Drabble 21

Heiji/Shinichi – “-Incomprehendable dark art chanting-”

Chapter warnings: eXORCISM AND WALKING TALKING DEATH MAGNETS

\---

 

Kazuha didn’t know when she started to realise, but she did. It was probably at one of the many cases you receive when you deliver Kudou Shinichi and Hattori Heiji as a package deal out on a silver platter to the world.

At first, she thought it was purely coincidence that they seemed to have falling corpses, drug deals, hangings and mugging attempts and, hell, even an exhibitionist white-clad thief (That one’s probably more directed specifically to Shinichi rather than Heiji, actually) and that fate had a sense in irony and had it collide with their occupations as detectives.

With some points in mind, (One; Heiji and Shinichi needed purification or something even remotely related, and two; refer to point one) she books a ticket for the train to Beika, intent on meeting up with Ran to discuss their current problem at hand.

 

And that’s how, a few weeks later, they ended up in Agasa-hakase’s basement, fiddling with the tiny bits and pieces and struggling to assemble some strange machine that a red-head self-proclaimed ‘witch’ lent to them for the time being. Now, if only that Koizumi girl would spare a ‘how to assemble’ manual for them too, that’ll be a huge help on her part.

 

“Uh, Kazuha-chan, do you know how to draw a magic circle?” Ran asks hesitantly, holding up a – glowing? – piece of chalk and a bottle of holy water in the other hand while the ponytailed girl furrowed her brows, trying to hotwire the dented scrap of metal only known as a four-wheel drive with malfunctioning pedals. She looked up to the long-haired girl a heaved a sigh through her nose.

 

“We should Google that.” Ran nodded in return, as she turned away to place other bits and pieces and unexplainable otherworldly pieces in place.

 

“Sheesh, who uses a broken boat paddle in a exorcism procedure?” Kogoro grumbled, throwing a piece of wood to the side, “This is just damn ridiculous, I mean, that detective brat doesn’t actually receive as much cases as me, does he?”

 

“Tou-san!” Ran scowled disapprovingly, “We’ve talked about this before!”

 

“Er, some of these things actually do make sense,” Agasa pushes his glasses up as he places a bible, three white candles and a sage leaf on the floor, “We need somewhere to bury the candles though – _ow_ , my old back-!”

 

“We’re offending thousands of Catholics by the second,” Ai scoffs, spinning a pair of handcuffs on her finger and holding a stuffed bear in her other hand, “The number of people who, if they knew about this, would storm into the house and hold siege and demand the devil to devour our souls? Astronomical.”

 

“Er, Ai-chan, you do know what you’re talking about?” Ran glances over her shoulder with a slight laugh while flipping through the booklet of items needed for the procedure. “Er, we still need a pint of pork fried rice, issue #212 of the Fantastic Four..” She trails off, slightly dumbfounded, “And half a cup of rabbit poop.”

 

“..Ran, book me an appointment with the ear specialist tomorrow,” Kogoro holds a hand up to his face.

 

Kazuha’s perky phone rings through the room, and she frowns as she picks it up, “Heiji?”

The room grows silent, all listening to what they could of the call. Kazuha glances around and puts it on speaker.

 

“Ya ahou, you’re not at the old man’s agency, where did you and neechan go?” The Osakan grumbles, “We’re on our way from the police station and- Oi, Kudou, look to the sides when yer crossing a road, dammit!”

 

Out of the corner of the Osakan girl’s eye, she sees Ai and Ran clutching their sides in silent laughter. They looked slightly purple in the face and that was probably not a good sign right now.

 

“Ah, Heiji, we’re at Agasa-hakase’s house right now, uh, yeah, trying one of his new gadgets. Uh, Heiji? Heiji?”

 

“Kudou! What did I say about pokin’ a guy in the face when he’s already been poisoned in that car?” The voice from the phone growled, and Kazuha shut the phone with an annoyed scowl, and turned to Ai and Ran, the latter now choking as she leaned against the wall and the former walking out the door of the basement calmly, but still a bit purplish-blue in the cheeks. Her laugh echoed down the basement stairs.

 

Kogoro yawned, “Looks like we still have time then.”

 

“Right, we should hurry this along,” Agasa nodded with the detective.

 

-.-.-

 

“Atamatsu-san, you knew the victim’s habits well enough to know what he adjusts his seat level every time he drives, and so you applied cyanide to the lever and convinced him to buy sushi and eat while driving,” Shinichi declared, brushing off the imaginary dust from his clothes while he looked at the forty-something year old man dead straight in the eye. Atamatsu could only stutter in reply.

 

Heiji looked from the sidelines quite amused, and found Inspector Megure poking his sides discreetly, “So, when are you going to, you know, _propose_?” He whispered.

 

Heiji blinked, then choked on his own spit.

 

“W-wait, what?” He grasped around for words, “Me an’ Kudou are just best friends! Best friends, yeah, nothing more, the hell, man?!” He babbled, waving his hands around. Megure raised an eyebrow and his moustache bristled.

“I didn’t specify Kudou-kun,” His eyes glimmered in triumph, “But it looks like I won the division-wide bet. Shiratori-kun won’t even see this coming.”

 

“Wait, what?” Heiji yelped, “You had an entire bet?”

 

“Well, there was a lot of contestants for the betting pool on who’s going to reveal their young love to Kudou-kun first,” He hummed nostalgically at the words ‘young love’, “There’s Ran-kun, Masumi-chan, Hakuba-kun, Kaitou KID, Ayumi-chan, the other little girl – Haibara Ai? – and the poor, old homeless man a few blocks away from the police headquarters-”

 

“Is something wrong, keibu?” Shinichi walks up to them, face quizzical. Heiji whips around and pastes a plastic grin on his face. Inside, he was mortified.

“Ha.. ha ha ha, Kudou, let’s get back to neechan and Kazuha and the others, they should be waiting for us so they can go to the karaoke place,” He steered the confused boy towards the old professor’s house just a few more blocks down (They were already at the front of the Mouri Detective Agency anyways).

 

“Ah, alright,” Shinichi balanced himself, and sent a glance to the inspector, “Megure-keibu, we’ll be-”

 

“What?! Hattori-kun!?” Takagi jumped when Megure whispered in his ear, before slinking back down under Shinichi’s intensely curious gaze and Heiji’s ‘I will decapitate you’ look.

 

“Satou-san was betting on KID, keibu, so you should watch where you step when you’re in her five meter radius,” Heiji barely managed to pick out from the whisper. He felt a vein sprout on his head. Shinichi just looked plain clueless as he half-looked at Heiji and Takagi and Megure and half-looked at Satou clicking the cuffs on Atamatsu.

 

“Heiji, let’s go, Ran and Touyama-san will probably already be waiting,” He tugged insistently at the other’s sleeve. Heiji shot one last murderous look at the officers then turned and started to walk, faint dusts of pink still lingering on his cheeks as he watched Shinichi almost walk into a pole and laugh.

 

-.-.-

 

“Hurry,” Ai hissed, “I can hear the door opening, you damn asses!”

 

Kazuha wanted to point out that a girl her age shouldn’t be using language like that, but instead tried to focus on fixing the position of the candles into a perfect equilateral triangle and Ran was readying her axe in case the devil decided that he didn’t like them and tried to snatch their souls or some shit. Agasa was standing to the side looking confused and rubbing his back, while Kogoro was lying down on the floor with a headache (Most likely from the sheer ridiculousness of the entire fiasco).

“Oi, Kazuha? Anyone here? Geez, what the hell, they’re scared of ghosts an’ the crap, but then they disappear too! Kudou, that’s your fucking sixth cup of motor oil today, not includin’ the tiramisu from lunch..!”

 

“It’s not ‘motor oil’, Hattori, your pronunciation of ‘coffee’ is astronomically far off,” Shinichi growled back, “I’ll check the basement, Hattori.”

 

“I’ll come with you, wait up,” The western detective called back, before a rain of footsteps signalled that they were advancing to the exorcism area fast.

 

“Ah, shit, someone bite me,” Kogoro moaned from the floor, as still as a corpse. No later than a split second after, the door slammed open and showed two teenage detectives fantastically clueless and blank-faced.

 

Kazuha decided, in a nutshell, that they were screwed.

 

“Ran-chan, start the chanting!” She ordered, and the long-hared girl immediately dropped the heavy metal axe and began flipping through the pages frantically, “Uh, uh, I can’t find the pa- oh, here, uh..” Meanwhile, Kazuha hurriedly shoved the two dumbfounded boys into the room and onto the ‘magic circle’, “Eeny meeny miny mo, catch a Tigger by the toe..” Ran chanted flusteredly, “Er.. wait no, my mum makes me mash my M&Ms every Monday morning- wait no, that’s not it!”

 

“Dammit, Ran-chan, give me the stupid book, let’s see,” Pages flip, “Dammit, abracadabra, uh, screw this, just throw them the magic item!” And with that, Kazuha flung a small, white tube of something at a blinking Shinichi and a gaping Heiji, both with their minds still lagging behind and encountering ‘error, does not fucking compute’ messages in their normally fast-working and genius young minds.

The door slams, and it’s only them two left in the room. Heiji looks around slowly, a tiny bit spooked, if not immensely creeped out.

It was around twenty seconds later that he looked at the white bottle Kazhua hurled at Shinichi, which the latter was holding right now.

 

“…” Heiji rubbed his eyes, “..Am I growing senile or does that read ‘lube’?”

 

Shinichi looked down at the object, “..No, I think I am too. I’ll need glasses too.”

 

Silence ensured between them, and Heiji distinctly hears Kazhua and Ran chattering behind the basement door. Heiji jumps as if a lightning bolt struck him, “Holy shit, what-”

“Hattori?” The Osakan teen whipped his head around to find his counterpart staring embarrassedly at the lube, face slightly flushed and fidgeting, and before Heiji’s brain shortcircuits, he feels heat rising to his cheeks too. Shinichi looks up, laughing a bit and his lips a bit more shinier and brighter than before, “It’s getting a bit hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Oi, Kudou, s-snap outta it, this is obviously some spell or some other hocus-pocus,” He stutters, mentally slapping himself. Of course it has to be what Kazuha did, judging from the setup of this room. But, okay, maybe he was a tiny bit thankful for them, because he wouldn’t see Shinichi like this in a lifetime or even three if it wasn’t for their obsessive supernatural beliefs.

 

“Hattori,” Shinichi moaned again, and the sound went straight to Heiji’s crotch, as his blush deepened, “I can’t think straight.”

 

Heiji pasted on a weak smile. Something tells him that when this is over, he may or may not be getting a soccer ball to his precious areas.

 

-.-.-

 

“Ran-chan, we’ve been tricked, that was a fucking lust spell we chanted!” Kazuha growled, throwing her hands up in frustration as she continued trying to block out M-rated sounds from inside the door. Ran was slightly panicky and looked at her Osakan friend nervously, “Well, of course we didn’t know that ‘Just throw them the magic item’ was for a spell like that..”

“I knew there was somethin’ off when the list included a bottle of lube!” The ponytailed girl paced back and forth, and almost stumbled into Ai. Said little girl was leaning against the door, probably even enjoying the sounds. Kogoro long excused himself to the bathroom and Agasa’s moustache was twitching every now and then.

“Uh, so is there a spell that reverses it, or something like that?” Ran asks, and Kazuha sighs, “Yeah, but do we actually have a bottle of Chanel No.5 perfume?”

 

“Oh, I do!” The periwinkle-eyed girl brightened and rummaged through her pockets, “The bottle smells a bit like curry, though.”

 

Kazuha took the pink bottle in hand, “Okay, I’m going in, so I just need to spray it in the air while screaming these words?” She eyes the spellcraft book with doubt, and takes a deep breath, “Here goes nothing.” Ran gives her friend a sympathetic look.

 

She slams the basement door open with enough force to wake at least three elephants, and screamed loudly, “LET US PRESERVE THE HOLINESS OF THE EYEBALLS AMEN ALL.” Kazuha then proceeded to furiously spray the perfume everywhere and on everything.

 

-.-.-

 

The first thing the supposedly virgin Detective of the East registers is the fact that someone sprayed perfume smelling like wilted roses and laundry detergent and chicken curry in the air in some attempt to murder innocent noses.

 

The second is that there’s a hand down his pants.

 

And lastly he realises that it’s Heiji’s.

 

With a horrified shriek and a yelp his defensive instincts kick in at the speed of five light years a second and he knees the other’s crotch with such brutality and force that he might as well be rendered infertile.

This would definitely be something he would not be telling his grandchildren when he’s old and almost deaf and only decent at sudoku.

And at the sidelines, Ai blankly dials the number for the ambulance and the media while she was at it too.

 

-.-.-

 

Doctor Fujimine tapped his clipboard with an emotion he couldn’t name as he peered up to the blue-eyed boy staring nervously back at him, then he looked outside the hospital window to the rioting crowds and media down below as Kogoro had his hands full from fending them off and dragging them back outside from the main reception.

 

“Kudou-san, I’m honestly not sure whether I should ask you why apparently half the police are screaming about some bet and the insane number of media and SuperIntendant Hattori are plaguing the parking lot and why Hattori Heiji-san is in surgery for reproductive problems.”

 

“It’s better if you don’t,” Shinichi replied meekly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cringy sense of humour is cringy.  
> If I have offended anyone religious out there I'm really sorry. If push comes to shove I can take this down. Thanks all.


	22. General – “Compromise the fragility.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he becomes folded into again and again, crushed and tarnished and defied against his morals, standing in the corner with red washed over like a impressionistic painting, fingers curving around the knife, the manipulative silver which he used to hate like so, and he laughs.
> 
> The laughter is nothing but sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Split Personality AU (From drabble 16), but the plot is completely different.
> 
> Okay whoa there is some seriously dark shit and horror in this chapter. If you’re aren’t comfortable with this, there is a magical, sunny icon up in the top left corner called the back button. Or the red cross in the top right. The red cross works too.

Drabble 22

General – “Compromise the fragility.”

Chapter warnings: Darkfic and horror elements.

\---

 

In a stereotypical world like this, no one would even begin to suspect a child of eight years old of a thing as far off as _murder._

 

But he wasn’t eight, he probably wasn’t even eighteen anymore. Conan wasn’t anyone now. He was someone who’d snapped long ago, something inside his mind that had been so fragile and worn and strained which had been jerked and pulled for years had broken.

 

It’s not that he hates to be alone, but it’s just that he’s afraid of the distorted crack, growing and carving through the ground which he stands on like a silent earthquake. And the red flows through it, glimmering like a million rubies _massacred_ and _slaughtered_ into nothing but fragments, then poured heartlessly into the abyss, which Conan stands next to.

A dark drop splashes onto his skin, contrasting the smooth alabaster, and travels down sluggishly, and the bespectacled boy gazed upon it, not even sure if it’s his tears or someone else’s blood anymore as it drips and drips.

 

(Always hurting, always healing.)

 

It doesn’t matter, to him, it’s all the same now.

 

He places his hand over his chest – an unfamiliar and strange action – and he feels stillness. _Nothingness_. There’s nothing replacing the gaping hole where his heart used to be, and he really couldn’t care less.

 

And he becomes folded into again and again, crushed and tarnished and defied against his morals, standing in the corner with red washed over like a impressionistic painting, fingers curving around the knife, the manipulative silver which he used to hate like so, and he laughs.

 

The laughter is nothing but _sound_.

 

-.-.-

 

He only barely remembers the days before where everything around him was blue and dry.

 

He can only feel his memories prance around in his hellish present. He’s forgotten how to see, he’s forgotten if he can. If he takes another step, breathes another breath in his old, sepia memories, he’ll crumble in the present, and he’ll fall, into the jagged cavern of insanity and it’ll be impossible to crawl out of it from then.

So he doesn’t move in his vivid memories, afraid of the loneliness and melancholy of the possibility that if he did, the world crumbles, and he’s left there, standing in the middle of _oblivion_ where nothing exists anymore.

 

There were three children, playful and rambunctious. What were their names?

There was a boy and his accent and cap, a girl with chocolate hair and a smile, a man clad in white and an enigmatic grin. What were their names?

..There was a boy in a blue uniform and a funny cowlick, sixteen and boastful, his eyes some colour Conan doesn’t bother to name glimmering, and a ghost of a large grin.

 

_Who is he?_

 

-.-.-

 

Heiji didn’t realise it until he found himself staring in horror at a boy, eight years old towering over a man who laid still and deathly white. A sliver of moonlight bounced eerily off a _something_ of silver which the Osakan knew all too well what it was.

A shudder, a gasp, and a small, pitiful pained sound and the boy drops the mad glint of silver. It clatters on the floor with a shrill _cling._

A choked sob, a hugging of the arms, a look of sheer revulsion, and he curls in on himself, he crumples, and all that’s remaining is a tiny, furled ball of nothing but a life gone _wrong_ and time divided from his touches.

 

(While seeking solitude, I blend into everyone else.)

 

The Osakan stills from around the corner of the dank alleyway, repeating to himself that it’s not true, that Ku- _Conan_ wouldn’t do anything even close to this. The boy he knew was bursting with life and grins and pride, and looked up towards the camera every time.

 

(Vivid memories pierce where my heart was.)

 

Now though, Heiji remembers the paranoid glint in the midst of the cerulean blue at the mere suggestion of the media, the blank, empty slate of the face while looking at a corpse, the twitch of the shoulder, clamminess of the hands, the voice devoid of emotions while pointing out the evidence.

The corpses still shake Heiji, even if he says nothing of the sort, they show the madness and the sheer _carnage_ of the world and those who reside in it.

 

But it’s a world like theirs that they live in, and it’s this world that abandoned them, leaving them for the dead and the rotting.

 

-.-.-

 

Ran _sees_ it. She sees the change in her surrogate brother over the years. The familiar and bright tint to his smile and the colour in his cheeks and vivid hues in his eyes have faded into something a little more inert, just a little more _silent._

 

(Like watching a secret plot unfurl.)

 

Ran doesn’t like it, she doesn’t welcome it to the boy who she’s looked after for years, watching him grow and laugh and smile.

Now he comes home silent, not even an _“I’m home,”,_ and Ran doesn’t realise he’s there until she hears the rustling of paper – his tardy homework which he’s not handing in on time anymore.

 

She’s asked Kazuha, she’s queried about it to Sonoko, and even questioned her own father. They shake their heads at her and tell her that she’s delusional and that the boy is _perfectly healthy_ for his age. Ran knows better.

 

Another year passes and the calls from her detective-geek childhood friend cease completely. It’s planted a tiny seed of worry in her, fretting over his wellbeing and is he’s eating well if he’s _stillalive_.

It seems like Conan’s gone quieter over the years too, his youthful chirps and whiny pleading ceased a decent amount, and he’s taken an interest in cooking as well, so Ran lets him chop the onions and the baby tomatoes, listening to the beat of the silver kitchenware hitting the board steadily.

 _He’s very skilled with those knives_ , Ran remembers thinking.

 

(We give agony a limit, unconsciously so.)

 

Conan’s actions have grown a bit stiffer too, and he isn’t as energetic as he used to be. He’s barely grown, and he’s taken a strangely familiar to coffee – absolutely no cream, no sugar and entirely pitch _black_.

Ran washes the cups in the morning, rubbing at the brownish stains on the inside of the mug, the smell of caffeine brings back painful memories of _him_.

 

She wonders where he’s gone.

 

-.-.-

 

KID frowns, squinting into the cityscape around him. He had fully expected his favourite critic to arrive, slamming the door open with a look of triumph playing upon his face.

But he knows that this may just be another of these heists to add to the many others which his tantei-kun hadn’t shown up on.

The little detective had cut down of heists during the last year or so, slowly but surely. KID – Kaito too – was worried at first, but he decided that the miniscule detective needed a break too, and maybe some people do change over time.

With a sigh, he draws back, and reaches into one of his many pockets to curl his fingers around the _Bloody Tear,_ a large, 25-carat red diamond from the depths of the Argyle Mine from Western Australia.

Upon hearing the name and the urban legends – a man who’s gone missing when his house was set on fire around 50 years ago was found in the ruins of the blazes, _unscathed_ by flames, but starved to death, and found shot in the heart – he was sent in a giddy of anticipation, a candidate closer to Pandora then he’s ever found. Kaito, on the other hand sternly tells him that, if it really was what they were looking for all along, KID would have to be on high alert when he showed the gem to the moonlight.

 

His nose pricked up. Something smelled like iron in the air, tasted like iron on his tongue, bitter and familiar, and it was a tad bit concerning. _Blood._

Was someone bleeding?

He hoped it wasn’t any of his fans, or the Task Force, or even the snipers. These trigger-happy freaks stirred up trouble when they need to, but if someone managed to spill _their_ blood, KID was going to have to watch his each and every step then.

 

And where was _tantei-kun?_

 

He hopped down from the ledge and descended into freefall, white wings of his glider cutting the night air. The taste of sickening red grew thicker and thicker, and it clogged his nose and mouth.

Something catches his eye, a glint, faint yet sure, in one of the alleys. The thief frowned, _that didn’t look natural to him_.

Tantei-han? Was that his SAX cap in one of the dark corners? Kaito growled, this was getting stranger and stranger. Something was so wrong, and it was like that day his father died all over again, the inevitable sinking pit in his stomach.

 

(Something wrong.)

 

With a graceful hop, he landed on the ground, his pristine cape behind him flowing as he presses himself against the wall, listening for sounds and anything to give him a basis for the situation. From his field of vision, it seems like tantei-han wasn’t moving, and wasn’t intending to. His breathing pattern seemed strangely shallow, if the fast rising and falling of his chest was any indication.

KID decided that the only appropriate thing to do now was to ask directly the western detective.

In his mind, Kaito grits his teeth and screams for his other self to just get out of here and away. KID bluntly ignores him, the same unease steadily growing and it’s not stopping anytime soon.

 

“Tantei-han.”

 

Heiji turns his head around at a supersonic level, possibly getting whiplash and three or four cricks in the neck in the process, but the thing that really makes the phantom thief freeze to the bone was what he was looking at, just a mere few meters away, something utterly revolting and bone-chilling. It was only with the pair of glasses with one lens shattered on the ground almost by their feet that his brain decided to leap to conclusions – or what he hoped was one.

 

_“Tan-”_

 

In his mind, Kaito punches his counterpart and glowers on him.

 _‘Do you think attracting his attention would do us any good right now?’_ He spat, shivering slightly. KID wipes the blood from his mouth and shakes his head.

_‘Sorry, you’re right.’_

 

“KID?” Heiji mutters, as his gaze flickers back and forth, and his voice wavers just a little, “Why are you here..?”

Kaito narrows his eyes while KID’s plastic grin stiffens and tightens just slightly around the sides.

“What’s happening, Hattori-kun?” Kaito slammed in in place of KID, who was just slightly speechless at the moment. The Osakan detective didn’t even seem to notice the change in honorifics when his bottom lip trembled.

“That’s not Kudou, it’s not, it’s not,” He repeated. Kaito clenched a fist, they needed to get out of here, fast, before Conan – Kaito’s deadly sure that’s not Kudou Shinichi – hears even a peep from them.

But first, Heiji.

 

“This is no time for denial, Hattori-kun,” Kaito hissed, “We’re getting out, _now_.”

The other could only grit his teeth and nod.

And they ran, far and farther. It was only when they saw the flickering lights of the Task Force that they slowed, and Kaito flinched as the raw taste of blood, previously faded, now grew stronger again. He turned his head behind him, and caught the sight of a bowtie, the red he wasn’t even sure if it was from it’s design or blood anymore.

 

(There’s sorrow, but in no need of redress.)

 

The boy wearing it was standing blankly around the corner, black from the night eating away from his appearance.

 

-.-.-

 

Shinichi stopped counting the seconds in his invisible cage long ago, and stares at the little patch of red on the floor.

 

The door clicks, something unreal, something imaginary, only there for effect, and he turns his head sideways to see Conan standing there, faux sunny grin forever imprinted on the childish face.

Underneath, though, is something hideous and born out of the detective’s own bitterness and resent.

“Shinichi-niichan, how are you feeling?” He chirps. The boy receives nothing as a reply, the sound of silence resounding in the room. Conan pouts, the look of a spoilt child on the verge of a tantrum, but the red glow in his eyes are still there. His blue jacket is crumpled and sporting crusty, dry patches. The bowtie is still as a vivid red, seemingly untouched.

 

Shinichi’s watching a murderer. He’s stopped observing nowadays.

 

“Aw, Shinichi-niichan, you’re always no fun.. Ne, why don’t we play a game?” The smile that comes along with the sentence is sickly sweet and coated with poisoned honey.

The honey’s long expired already.

 

“I don’t wish to play, Edogawa-kun,” He replies blandly. Conan hums as he sits down in front of his other self.

“But it’ll be fun, promise!”

 

(Standing in the midst of inhumane, yet also walking into it’s claws.)

 

“No.”

The grin spreads and stretches like a creeping pool of oil, and then lit on fire, the red flames and blazes and ashes scattered everywhere, over everything.

 

“You’re already playing, Shinichi,” He laughs a little as he cups a tiny hand on the older boy’s cheek, and it’s cold, it’s lifeless, it’s the feeling of death.

 

It’s the last thing he feels before everything explodes and he’s plunged in white hot pain and bone-melting heat.

 

-.-.-

 

Hakuba Saguru was an observant person, someone who can read body language like reading a mere book. Though, he admits, that the only person he couldn’t get a complete grasp of was Kaitou KID.

 

And the child in glasses.

 

He thought it was just a normal night after a heist, Nakamori-keibu spitting vivid and ear-splitting language, and the officers struggling in vain to peel the sticky-putty off.

He didn’t expect a familiar white and blue top-hat to enter his vision and a white and green cap, both hiding spooked and aged eyed beneath.

“Hakuba!” Kaito almost screams, and stumbled as he hauls Hattori Heiji along, both as pale as ghosts, and it didn’t like a trick of moonlight.

 

“KID?” He almost stumbles over his words as he scans over the two figures with a critical eye, “What happened?”

Kaito catches his breath unevenly, slightly shaking, and catches his words in his throat. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t possibly tell the Task Force to arrest Conan, because then they’d also be arresting Shinichi as well.

“It’s nothing,” He pants, and Saguru raises a disbelieving eyebrow, and the scowl only grows.

“I do not take ‘nothing’ as a valid reason when you both look so dishevelled.”

Something behind them moves, like slinking death, and it clenches at the air, and Kaito can’t turn around fast enough.

 

(When it turned twisted, it became serious.)

 

“Kudou-!” Heiji yelled, but the boy paid him no attention, eyes blank and the way he walked was stiff, like a puppet. Kaito hissed, and back-pedalled away.

_That’s Conan, not Shinichi._

It reeks of death everywhere, squealing and clawing, the stench of blood and decay, rot, it clouds the atmosphere.

Something screams. To Kaito’s sheer horror the detective’s not where his eyes were tracking him anymore. Heads turn, and something red flows to his feet and it smells like rusted copper.

 

_-Is-not-blood._

 

“Sensui!” Nakamori’s voice booms out, with a bitter and an angered undertone as he launches himself towards the cowlicked boy now standing next to a bleeding body, kitchen knife in hand, something folding into a monster by the second.

Before any of them could bite out something of a warning, Shinichi’s movements were sweeping and sharp, something not even reflex anymore, but programming.

And more of the disgusting red splatters heavily on the pavement, except this time, neither Kaito or KID can look, as they hear the choked noise of pain.

He twists the knife sharply, with fluid movement, like he’s done this a million and one times, and Nakamori falls.

 

The blank eyes turn to Kaito, Heiji and Saguru.

 

(Drops of blood the knife so easily grazed.)

 

And in that instant, something flickers in his eyes, something a rich ocean blue, as he smiles – real – and he holds the knife up in the air, blade pointing down.

It shimmers in a red and brown glow like a jewel, and KID’s attention is suddenly piqued, even when he’s focused and on guard in anticipation.

 

-.-.-

 

Conan desperately scrambles for control of the body, gritting and cursing himself that he shouldn’t have let go of the control for even a millisecond, scrabbles and eyes wide in horror, as his glasses fall with a _crunch_ on the floor.

 

Shinichi plunges the knife inwards.

 

(Compromise the fragility.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say honestly.  
> Bye.


	23. KID/Shinichi – “Crossdressing is always the answer.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When shit hits the fan and next thing you know you’re at a bar drunk and in a skimpy dress and you’re pretty sure you weren’t intending for this when you signed up for a secret police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in my Mafia/Spy AU (From drabble 13)  
> Also, SJP = Secret Japanese Police

Drabble 23

KID/Shinichi – “Crossdressing is always the answer.”

Chapter warnings: Crossdressing and molesting.

\---

 

Shinichi wasn’t normally the type to go to bars, oh no, he wouldn’t dare.

But somehow he’s here, sitting right in one, only on his second shot of gin, and feeling sloozy and unfocused. Hey, no one ever told him that he couldn’t hold his liquor and he never did try to find the answer to it.

But, okay, where was he? Oh, right, the bar. Wait, and the dress too. Can’t forget the dress.

 

Kudou Shinichi was sitting at a bar, already mildly drunk, and wrapped up in a cocktail dress.

 

The reason? An undercover infiltration mission.

It’s always a mission.

And it’s always for that damn mafia boss. He definitely didn’t sign up for this.

KID was probably one of the most wanted of the people in his field (Trigger-happy self-declared bosses) and is wanted for blackmail, theft, property damage, bodily harm, break-ins, too much fashion sense (Wait, what?), sanity-breaking hyena laughter (Okay, Shinichi admits that his laughs do sound somewhat too mentally disturbing), and so the list goes on and on. Shinichi doesn’t actually believe he’s too much priority since he doesn’t deal murders or serial killings, but he’s only infamous for taunting the government and basically just the powerful and all that shit in general.

Apparently, according to ‘reliable sources’ (Shinichi’s shooting a wild guess that the SJP is just taking Akako’s advice too believably), their secret gathering tonight is taking place in a shady bar like this.

Shinichi offered to take up the mission, with nothing better to do, and offered to witness the meeting himself, and record any specific details straight through the communicator he’s carrying to the Communication Sector.

 

But he’s denied all of the assumptions sniped at him saying that he’s taking this case for meeting with that infamous mafia jerk, because denial is always the way to go, right?

 

Of course, to infiltrate something like a mafia and criminal group tea party (SJP assured him that there would be no civilians on the scene), you’d need a disguise. And what luck it is that the SJP’s infamous master of disguise happens to be his very own mother, Kudou Yukiko, and Shinichi honestly wishes that his features didn’t scream ‘feminine’ when it came to measurements, clothing size, how pretty his face was (Accidentally blurted out by Heiji on his seventeenth birthday, but let’s not go there), and just the general female stereotypical-ness, because that just causes the former actress to seize every opportunity to doll him up in a dress or a skirt or ponytails or _something_ ( _“But Shin-chan, I even have the family albums to prove that you really did wear a Lolita dress at that one family dinner!”_ Yukiko squeals) for important things like this.

But it seems like Yukiko really doesn’t mind if her son’s virginity is at risk or not, and she goes on and _poofs_ a _bikini_ out of nowhere to a sputtering Shinichi. And it gets worse, the other time they had to disband a whore auction, and the time where Shinichi tracked a serial poisoner to a girl’s school and was forced into one of these skimpy skirts and-

 

“Hey, girlie, you look pretty lonely here. Want some company?” A man in his fourties, slightly unshaven and clearly drunk whistles as he takes a seat next to the blue-eyed boy, disintegrating all the thoughts. Shinichi flinched, and buried his nose in the glass of alcohol in a scarce attempt to avoid the impending situation. He could smell the pungent breath of the other man, and in all honesty, he has the impulse to shove a toothbrush in the guy’s mouth.

“I’m fine, thank you very much,” He let the sarcasm drip into his tone to let the other know that he wasn’t interested in whatever the older man had in mind.

Drunktards can’t seem to take the hint, though.

 

“Aw, you’re such a cold one. I’m here if you need me,” He had the decency to nuzzle _closer_ to the agent, and said agent wanted nothing more at that moment than to flip either himself or the drunk-cuddly-pedo or _someone_ out of the window so he could get away and run down the street screaming ‘bloody mur-pedophiles’.

 

But he couldn’t, and his self-control meter was still at a decent level, so he sat there unmoving, taking titanically large imaginary breaths, and counting to 362. The man next to him felt (finally) like he wasn’t going to get an answer, so he sat back a little (To Shinichi’s tremendous relief).

 

There is actually filth like this that KID interacts with? Good lord.

It was when he went for another sip of his (bitter) drink that he felt the clammy, meaty hands creeping slowly around his waist.

 

_Ick._

 

There goes all the self-control in his imaginary meter, _woosh,_ watch it disintegrate into nothing.

Shinichi pushes away in disgust and, in a swift, fluid motion, he flings himself on the table with one hand and round-house kicks the pervert soundly square in the face. The older man stutters and howls in pain, and brings his hands up to his nose – which was bleeding like a mountain stream – and Shinichi quickly wipes his waist in disdain, trying to rid himself of the feeling of unwanted touching and reminding himself that he’s a _male_.

“You bitch..” Oh is that sewer scum he hears talking again, “What was that?”

 

“What does it look like?” The agent muttered almost silently, but apparently the bleeding-nose and the man sporting it heard, and he roared in anger, “I’m going to teach you a lesson!”

Shinichi rolled his eyes dramatically as he dodged the lunge the older man made for him, _isn’t that what they always say_?

“Get her!” The scum ordered while pulling himself up from the floor. The blue-eyed couldn’t even process the sentence fully before a kick (From the pedo-bastard’s goons?) was sent into his side, and he was sent hurtling into the wall.

 

Colours blurred and bled into each other, and there was a flaring sting in his side, and something tasting vaguely like blood coming from his mouth and over the greasy lip-gloss. Something resembling fuzzy dark blurs were coming closer and closer to him, and from the back of his lagging mind, he makes a discrete note not to drink then bash his head into a wall of any kind.

 

“Let’s see how pretty she looks when she’s screaming for help.”

“Nah, I’d prefer her to have her mouth all clogged up.”

 

Something tugged at his dress, and he instinctively tried to scuttle away, as a hand pulled the strap down lower and lower.

Another pulled at the wig – _the wig_ , holy shit nono _no_.

“The fuck, it’s a boy!” A rough voice, like sandpaper exclaimed, “A crossdresser!”

Rustling of the camouflaged pockets, “And from the Secret Police too!” Shit, the _badge_.

“..He’s still pretty though, look at the face, it doesn’t make much difference..”

 

His mind was still a bit groggy, from the aftershocks of most likely a concussion, and the hands were everywhere now, here and there and around his waist and gripping onto his thighs and-

 _Shit_ , he didn’t accept this mission to be played with by these perverted men, and inhaled sharply as he headbutted one of them – late thirties, large build – and let out a small whimper of pain, as he swept another off his feet with his leg.

Someone grabbed hold of him by the knee and the arm, and he struggled and flailed and kicked aimlessly for a good three seconds, painfully aware of the half-open dress and the knotted wig on the floor and the hand slithering up his thigh, before something suspiciously close to a gunshot rang out.

 

 

Nevermind, that _was_ a gunshot. One that was fired dangerously close to them as well, judging from the volume, and the ringing of his ears.

“Well, what kind of trash do we have here?” A sickeningly familiar suave voice sang out across the room, and it seems like everything freezes at the mere first syllable.

One overly courageous man spoke up, “K-KID-sama, we-we were.. uh.. we..”

KID strode over, fast and powerful steps, and smiled. It, however, held a layer of ice over it.

“Spare me the excuses, what were you doing to this youn-” He glanced at Shinichi, who was still trying to cover himself futilely and looked up with mortification and vehemence. KID’s smile grew a little harsh and chipped around the edges, “This visitor of ours?”

 

“Ah, sir, we-we..” The voice trailed off, sounding lost, and KID growled, yet still managing to retain his perfectly untouchable smile, hard and cold, “Fools, the lot of you.” And he fired a warning shot for the second time that night, “Aoko,” He waved over to a messy-haired girl who focused her attention when her name was called, “Yes, Kaito?”

“Cancel the gathering tonight.”

“What..?! Kaito, we can’t have that!” Aoko half-shrieked, eyebrows rising to her hairline.

 

 _“Do it.”_ Nothing else was heard from anyone.

 

KID, seemingly satisfied, gave a grunt bordering scathingly seething and just plain exasperated. Both came in large quantities. Shinichi stared in confusion as the mafia boss proceeded to kneel down and scoop the agent up into his arms, and it was then that he gave a squawk not unlike a parrot.

“KID, what are you doing?!” He sputtered, realising he was being carried bridal style in wiry, muscular arms. KID hummed, indigo eyes with a sliver of blue flickering and taking in the surroundings and the frozen statues sitting or standing in the middle of the bar, as he strode towards the exit, Shinichi still pawing for freedom in his arms, downright flushed on his cheeks.

 

“Dammit, are you deaf, you insensitive bastard?” KID twitched, he still had human emotions _thank you very much ehem_ , “Put me down, everyone’s staring!”

 

So, KID did like the sassy and snarky agent most of the time, but now, now is just not the time, he decided, as he flicked up a small pill from the depths of the folds of his suit, and popped it in his mouth, careful not to break it with his teeth, then looked down at Shinichi dead serious – it earned him a curious squeak – and flashed a predatory and dominant smirk, before leaning down and kissing the cowlicked boy full on the lips.

It was too much teeth, and not enough tongue, but KID supposed it could do, and it was warm and moist and sweet, with slight undertones of black coffee, and KID absolutely relished it, scraping his tongue over the other’s and the roof of the mouth and the teeth and _everything_ , claiming the territory all over.

The other was, unsurprisingly, shocked for a full five seconds – brain lag much – before trying to push himself away and sputtering midway into the kiss. He couldn’t stop the inevitable white pill being passed into his mouth and made forcibly swallowed.

Only when Shinichi began to feel slightly weak and losing control of himself that he realised it was aphrodisiac.

“KID, you son of a..” He slurred off, and fell limp into the arms, his own arms and legs suspended in midair.

“Sweet dreams, tantei-kun,” The other grinned back.

 

Aoko gaped like a fish behind him, save for all the other spectators present.

 

“Gotta make a delivery, seeya’, Aoko,” His laugh echoed around a room, but the figure was out the exit.

 

-.-.-

 

“What the fuck, the bastards, they had the nerve to touch ‘im!” Heiji fumed, pacing back and forward and possibly trying to put on a charade (unknowingly) of a supremely-pissed hippopotamus.

Shinichi opened one bleary eye, then the other, and registered lying in a bed with his blankets wrapped around him like some burrito gone wrong. No wonder he was sweating like so, as he shifted under the layers of fabric.

“Hattori?” He croaked, and almost winced at the sand-papery feel his voice had obtained overnight. The other tanned agent didn’t seemed to mind, as he padded over quickly with a frown on his face, “How ya feeling, Kudou? I take that last night’s mission was a failure.”

 

Huh, mission? What mis-

Shit no shit _no_.

 

“KID!” Shinichi screamed in utter horror, still wrapped in his cocoon prison and now wriggling like a trapped caterpillar (would be comical if not the situation), “I’m going to bash his head in from one side and out the other-!”

“Woah, Shinichi, calm down, _calm down_ ,” Ran consulted, suddenly appearing in his vision, “First, let’s get these blankets off, since someone,” She shot a pointed look to Saguru, who was sitting in one of the corners of the room – Shinichi’s room – and blushing, “Was worried sick and decided four layers of blankets would do you good.”

 

Four layers of peeled-off thick fabric later, the blue-eyed boy sat on the edge of the bed in his pajamas, previously discovered that he was still sleeping in that horrendous cocktail dress, changed out of it, and is now deciding whether to go and dig himself a hole like a groundmole and stay in it forever and never see the light of day again, or to bash his head in a wall (again) and hopefully get amnesia while he was at it.

 

“So, Kudou-kun,” Saguru started off, slightly unsure, “What happened last.. night?”

Shinichi groaned, and put his head into his hands, “I don’t need this kind of stress in my life right now.”

“Kudou, what happened? KID called us – we couldn’t trace the call, though – really late last night and told us that he sent you to your house out cold. Did something happen at the gathering?” Heiji grimaced, checking the younger boy up and down for any telltale signs other than the atrociously large bruise on the right side of the abdomen and a concussion – which resulted in Shinichi’s head being wrapped in a guaze.

“Damn, can I just lie down first? My head is killing me right now,” Shinichi groaned, as he went to lie down, and Saguru rushed over and scolded something about using a pillow and Heiji rushed to get the painkillers and some water.

At the side, Ran chuckled, “Look at them, draping themselves all over you, Shinichi,” and peered over the three, and Saguru flushed slightly and straightened himself, while Heiji just straight out rammed into the doorway before correcting his directions and finally headed for the painkillers.

 

When they were finally silent and Shinichi got his dear painkillers and three cups of water, Ran piped up, “So..”

 

“Last night I had to crossdress to infiltrate a criminal gathering with KID as the host and I notquitebut _okaymaybe_ gotten a bit drunk and some person tried to grope me so he’s now at surgery getting a nose job and maybe his goons kicked me into the wall and tried to strip me and fucking KID comes and drugs me and sends me home,” He states blandly, before rolling into his bed and flipping the covers over his head.

Saguru boggled – what a sight it was, while Heiji was still standing there, letting the words sink in, and Ran sighed.

 

“Mother of god, Shinichi, I’m surprised your chastity is still intact.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SMUT NEXT CHAPTER SINCE IT'S BEEN FOREVER WHOOPS


	24. General – “Raindrops, teardrops.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outside, it’s a mess.  
> Wind and clouds and sprays of water – sharp and slicing to the skin – fly everywhere. A pandemonium. There were still some people out on the streets.  
> Fools, Conan thinks, to be out in sadistic weather like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translated lyrics from 濡れた髪に触れられた時 (Nureta Kami ni Furerareta Toki), or ‘That Time I was Touched by your Wet Hair’ (Sappy title yes, yes) by Yuuhei Satellite. God the song gave me intense feels like UGH WHY. I recommend the Iceon arrange more than the Autobahn remix though, unless you like electronicky dubstep so yeah.
> 
> I wrote this when I was just utterly agitated and wanting to cry my eyes out at the same time so probably nothing’s going to make sense whoops.

Drabble 24

General – “Raindrops, teardrops.”

Chapter warnings: Angst because okay. Also virtually no plot.

\---

 

(For sorrow and anger alike, their beginning always starts with you.)

 

It’s raining.

It’s blending into him.

It’s nothing but a paper-thin overcoat for the real drops of water.

And he stops, glasses smudged, clothes soaked, and stares at the patch of vivid, ocean blue amongst the pitiful greys.

_Some time ago, it was only a drizzle, then the clouds gathered, piled, until it couldn’t be stopped._

(When I hid my tears in the rain, you raised your umbrella for me.)

 

“Hey, boy, what are you doing without an umbrella?”

The rain stops.

“It’s okay, have mine. I’ll be fine without one.”

But it still drips. Down and off.

“Let’s get inside first, how about the café over there?” A nod, small, subtle, but noticed nonetheless, and he smiles, “Great, Poirot should be open right now.”

He presses against the small boy, large, smooth hands gripping and steadying the boy’s own, shaky fingers, as they pushed through the traffic and dull splashes of other bland shades, raised in the air.

He smells like meadows and tinges of coffee and fresh-printed paper. There’s no rain.

The smell is familiar, like holding a photo album of memories you don’t have anymore.

 

(That time when I was touched by your wet hair, the painful pulsation within my chest beat fast.)

 

The older boy’s hair is plastered onto his face, the remainder of water flowing like waterfalls. The traffic light is tinged an unexciting shade of deep maroon, blunted by rain. The pedestrian light flashes in the same way as the traffic lights, in a lifeless deep green.

His footsteps are large and traversing, legs wiry and muscular, but still lean. The shoes are tattered around the soles, and the fading blue jeans maybe just a size too small.

The bell jingles, a sad, melancholic sound nobody ever really pays close attention to, and the door welcomes in a dash of rain and wind and debris along with it. He closes it hurriedly, and plucks the umbrella up and folds it in.

The water runs, drips.

“Table for two?”

“Yes please, thank you, Amuro-san.”

“Anytime.”

 

(Your kindness that drenches my shoulders is like foul play, all the more stealing me away,)

 

They sit in silence, relishing the emptiness of the place, absence of the people usually here for lunch rush. Blue eyes flicker here and there out of slinking curiosity.

A woman in her twenties, medium length blonde hair, definitely foreign, wears glasses like him. An older man, already sporting white hair and a bristly white moustache and also glasses, sits opposite her, stirring his tea slowly, almost religiously.

Another man over there, peculiar long, silver hair and dressed in black like he was going to attend a funeral, sitting with another man wearing sunglasses and a slightly flat chin. Two tables over, a woman, sharp, icy eyes and flowing, blonde hair. A bottle of vermouth sits near her empty wine glass.

 

“Two lemon pies and two straight black shots. Anything else?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

It’s been almost years since he’s had coffee like that. A small sip, slightly wary, tells him that it’s a refreshing kind of bitter, something familiar, something relished.

Left hand under the porcelain cup, two fingers around the handle, and the thumb pushing against the edge as he brings it in for sip number two. The stranger mirrors his actions without even looking upwards.

A drop patters onto the table, leaving a brown trail in it’s wake.

Left hand grips the butter knife, thumb situated on the top edge of the blade. Right hand grips the fork like a food critique, steady as the blade cuts through, and the white of the plate shows.

He subconsciously follows.

 

“What’s your name?” He asks between small mouthfuls of aromatic coffee and lemon filling.

“Ku-Edogawa Conan.”

“Conan-kun, nice to meet you. I’m Kudou Shinichi,” He beams from his cup. Conan sinks his head lower.

“Nice to meet you, Shinichi-niichan.”

The thunder growls low and fortissimo outside. The droplets of rain, tiny balls of water patter even harsher onto the ground, and everything else as well.

 

(Without even raising the umbrella in the rain.)

 

Something rings, shrill and high yet concealing an undertone of regret, and it stops as Shinichi picks it up, “Hello, Ran?”

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of pounding rain and cold, tight thunder and the coffee goes cold in Conan’s grasp. He grips the handle tighter in vain and a simple fruitless attempt to warm it up again.

“I’m sorry, Ran, I’m still on this huge case. This is really important to me, and I’m getting close to solving it, but I’ll try to come home as soon as possible.” A pause holding unsaid questions and unconsidered answers, “Yes, it has been three years already. I’m sorry.”

He hangs up with a lonely _beep_ and sighs.

 

Something grows inside Conan, churning and twisted, and he asks slowly, “A case?”

Shinichi turns his head and tucks his phone – red with a soccer strap, exactly like Conan’s old phone – and his eyes turn strained, and suddenly the lingering eye bags seem so much more visible now.

“Yeah, I can’t go home because of it.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Conan’s childish, cattish act is thrown into the corner, forgotten.

 

(Now I feel this present time is even sweeter than the beautified past.)

 

“It’s.. something I’ve been trying to destroy for the last few years,” A melancholic hum, “Years, huh? It doesn’t even feel like time anymore. Every day’s the same, don’t you think?”

Conan only nods, eyes tracing out randomised patterns the raindrops created on the window, each drop looking as empty and glassy as the last. Each drop is a day he’s lost. Each drop is a piece of his soul which he’s turned into a white lie turned black.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry, Kudou-kun, Poirot’s almost at it’s closing time, but you can stay a bit longer until the rain subsides, if you’d like,” The blonde waiter’s voice pipes up, and Shinichi’s eyes take a lone glance outside at the chaos and shakes his head.

“We can leave now, otherwise it might get worse.”

 

(In our world shrouded by the rain, as long as we’re together, we’ll persist.)

 

Outside, it’s a mess.

Wind and clouds and sprays of water – sharp and slicing to the skin – fly everywhere. A pandemonium.

There were still some people out on the streets. _Fools_ , Conan thinks, _to be out in sadistic weather like this._ There was an old man, slightly more round than others his age, trying his best to shield three children from the cold with one flimsy, multicoloured umbrella.

Another little girl, short, strawberry-blonde hair and a piercing gaze grips her handle of her red and white umbrella. The words APTX are splayed over the top of the umbrella.

A boy and a girl, one dark-skinned and wearing a baseball cap likely to fling out into the rain anytime now and the other’s hair held up in a dainty ponytail. They were bickering as they still held the grip of the emerald-green umbrella together.

Another girl with messy hair holding a baby-blue umbrella walking alongside two boys holding a white and blue striped umbrella together. One of them looked to be British.

And a girl, chocolate hair and soft, periwinkle eyes standing on the pavement without any shelter. The rain drips all over her.

 

(That time when I was touched by your wet hair, I understood that I didn’t want to relinquish this distance between us.)

 

Something snapped inside both of them when they laid eyes on her.

The rain just stopped, quivering, like it was holding back, before storming down, down, _down_ into a rushing, forced torrent of his lies, his masks, evasions and all of what he’s never wanted to be.

The things he hated, he’s become, so easily.

 

(Just by you being there, I’m both relieved and uneasy.)

 

Conan stands while the tsunami runs. The multicoloured umbrella’s gone. The red and white’s disappeared as well as the forget-me-not blue and the blue and white.

Ran’s no longer standing in the middle of nothing. She’s been engulfed by rain and the twisted heartaches and frantic worry and nostalgia washed down with it.

 

Only Shinichi’s still there, with his contrasting, hopeful blue umbrella, and a downhearted but encouraging smile. His hands are warm and comforting in Conan’s, as the sound of water – sound of their sins and weaknesses and the symbols of what _fools_ they had transformed into crashes into them like a wall.

 

The water envelopes them, throwing them off their feet, swirling into it’s arms. Every little movement they move is counteracted, and they can’t move – won’t move.

Conan looks up to Shinichi with eyes of nothing.

Shinichi looks back at him and mouths something vague and blurred into a flurry of rain, rain, _tears_.

And he’s gone, leaving Conan alone in the icy torrent and suddenly with a burning of his throat and begging of the lungs for oxygen.

The sapphire-blue umbrella is swept away, out of his reach as his fingers flex out for it.

 

Conan twitches his lips upwards – bitterness seeping through the permanent cracks in his façade, and exhales, the bubbles rising upwards and away from him.

He’s still for a second. Two. Three.

The water swirls jeeringly around him, but he’s not swept anywhere. The last little, fragile bubble disappears out of sight and around him, the blue umbrella begins circles him like a vulture.

 

(Please, forgive this weak love of mine.)

 

He breathes in.

 

And never out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PUG A FUG I SWEAR NEXT CHAPTER'S A SMUT I'M SORRY  
> I OWE YOU GUYS THE PAIRING AT LEAST  
> KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi (YES THAT'S RIGHT SPLIT PERSONALITY-VERSE)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also taking drabble prompts for this collection, so feel free to drop even just a pairing down in the comments box :)
> 
> 26/11/15: I've started transferring some of my drabbles which I personally like better to FF.net. You can find me there with the same username just let me just say for the record that the formatting there is some of the most MESSED UP SHIT YOU'VE EVER SEEN if you're transferring stories.


End file.
